It is Your Destiny
by ShouldIGetOutandPush
Summary: A time travel fic. Luke gets a glimpse into the future that is the EU and, when given an opportunity to change it, does. AU. Rating HAS elevated.
1. Chapter 1

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant – Four Years after the Battle of Endor (8 ABY)_

She met her brother on the rooftop veranda of his apartment. He often went there to meditate, to sort out the complexities of the galaxy, complexities that she still didn't quite understand. His worries were of a different sort from hers. She concerned herself with the rights of all peoples in the universe. His concerns were more ethereal, more about the universe as a whole, maybe even about its very soul.

When she reached the veranda she took a moment to absorb her surroundings. She liked it up here, could see why her brother spent so much of his time here. They were high enough above the city that the air actually smelled fresh and new and there was always a healthy breeze that seemed to carry in its wake the nebulous promises of tomorrow from somewhere over the sun-soaked horizon. Sometimes it felt as if they were high enough to reach up and touch the stars – she and him - snatch them out of the sky and hold them in the palms of their hands. It was how they felt when they were together - limitless.

He had called her there. Not via comlink, just…through the connection that they shared through the Force. She didn't quite understand that either. In fact, everything about it scared her. As she approached him he kept his back to her, although she was certain that he knew she was there. His mind was flooded with thoughts and emotions and they spilled over her, buffeting her much like the night wind. Her skirt ruffled against her ankles as the cool evening breeze whipped around her. She stopped walking and crossed her arms, her hands rubbing up and down her biceps absently.

He turned to face her. Luke Skywalker. Her rescuer. Her twin. The lines on his face reminding her of how much they had been through since they had first met. Not long into that fateful reunion did it seem as if a lifetime of separation had been inexplicably and thoroughly erased. Somehow he had always been there. In many ways they were the ying and yang of the Skywalker legacy, their physical attributes a distorted mirror of their inner selves. His eyes were cool and blue and he was often seen as the sweet innocent half of the complex whole. Her eyes were warm and brown and many saw her as the calculating one. But Leia Organa only strived to move mountains. Luke's lofty goals made her dreams pale in comparison. Luke sought to manipulate humanity. The changes her brother envisioned had no measurement. The thought gave her a shudder that started at her shoulders and trickled down to her very toes.

The two stood silent for a moment, Luke seeming more than content to let her settle into her thoughts. His voice was the first to speak. "Have you thought about what I said?"

She could tell that he was anxious...nervous. For a moment she found the entire situation amusing. For all his experiences, training and growth, somehow he would always be that young farm boy from Tatooine. No matter the lines on his face or the color of his clothes, his sweet innocence still thrummed inside of his very core. But then she swallowed and reminded herself that nothing about this situation could be defined as humorous or innocent or sweet. "It's all that I can think of," she answered him coolly. "How could I not?"

She had held out hope that he would forget about it. That somehow he would discover that it couldn't be done. That it had been a foolish fantasy. She knew him too well, though. He wouldn't have brought it up if it had been an impossibility. He would've never approached her if he hadn't already had his answer. She closed her eyes briefly. Why did everything seem to fall on her? Even the impossible?

"Well?" He pressed.

In his eyes she could see the determination shimmering there, building and blossoming with a life of its own. As the days wore on, it seemed her opinion mattered less and less to him – although she knew he needed her somehow to make it work. This was another thing she didn't quite understand and he had been reluctant to explain it. "You, of all people, Luke," she replied, an anger rising from deep within her. "You know what you're asking of me."

His eyelids fell, it was the only way he could hide the excitement, the anticipation that lived there in spite of her all too apparent anger. "I know." He at least sounded contrite.

She looked around them, at the buildings in the distance. Was that where life was normal? Easy? Always in another window, on another rooftop, always for someone else? "You told me once that you would do everything in your power so that I wouldn't have to lose any more and now you ask me to do this."

His eyes flickered. "But that's just it, don't you see? This will make it so you don't have to lose everything."

"Except Han." Her words fell like a brick wall between them, an argument that had no other side.

"We've talked about that," he whispered dejectedly.

"We've talked about your _theory_. The same theory that changes everything else about our lives as we know them except _miraculously_ I'll meet Han somehow and fall in love again."

"There are some things that can never be changed or tampered with. Things that are meant to be. Han is your soul mate, Leia. You have to trust in the Force to guide you to him even if your paths to each other change."

She pointed at him. "_You_ trust the Force, not me. Yet you want me to take all the risks. And if some things will never change then how do we know which is which? How do we know it all won't happen anyway, just differently? And perhaps worse!"

He hesitated as if on the precipice of saying something that he had been holding back. She wasn't a trained Jedi, but she knew enough. He blew out a breath, keeping the information inside of him. He said, "_I_ know. And I know this is worth the risk. Trust me."

She didn't answer him. What could she say? Of course she trusted her brother, more than anyone else, save Han. But she didn't understand the Force. And she didn't know if she was ready to place all of her faith into something she barely recognized as real, much less trust it blindly.

Luke took a step toward her. "Leia. How many times have you put the galaxy ahead of your personal feelings? Of your own personal agenda?"

"Exactly!" She wanted to stomp and scream like a small child. Instead, she hugged herself, enveloping the painful war going on inside of her between her heart and her mind. This was a war she was all too familiar with. A war she had promised herself she would never fight again.

"I can't believe you'll stop doing that now," he whispered.

"You ask too much of me." Her eyes drifted away from him.

"No, I don't." He put his hand on her shoulder and she drew in and released a ragged breath. He continued, "You know what the right thing to do is and…I believe that you'll do it."

She shook her head, defeated. Billions of lives, an entire planet, and the fate of the galaxy hung on her decision. This could undo _everything_. She turned her head to face him and the haunting look she found there took her breath away. Had it always been there? No, certainly she would've recognized it before now. "What is it?" She asked.

He shook his head, turning away from her and walking towards the railing.

"Luke, what is it? Tell me. I deserve to know." She walked toward him. "If you want me to make this sort of decision, to throw away the only happiness I've known in my entire adult life, then you have to give me a better reason."

His head turned slowly back to face her. His voice was quiet. "I've seen the future. Trust me, Leia. You'll want to change the past."

"Why? What happens? Does something happen to Han?"

"No," he answered quite definitively. "You and Han will marry and remain so."

"Then what?"

"Leia, you know how visions are. It's very difficult to put into words."

"Try it," she replied through clenched teeth.

Luke sighed, seemed to resign himself to the inevitable. "For starters…you'll walk away from the New Republic. Repulsed by what it will become."

Leia swallowed, his words a crippling blow. Yet it still was not enough to deter her. Governments came and went and she was not so naïve as to think that she had helped create an infallible system. Besides, that look in her brother's eyes couldn't be over a struggling democracy. She regained her composure and pressed on. "_And?_"

Luke shook his head. "_And_…just trust me."

"That's not going to be good enough, Luke. Tell me or never mention this again. I won't do this for the New Republic, you must know that."

"It's your children," he blurted it out and seemed pained by the effort to release the words.

Her hand flew to her mouth. _Children?_ Children she hadn't even considered having yet and Luke had seen something about them. Something bad enough for him to consider something so drastic as this. It took a moment for her to trust her voice before she replied, "What of my children?" Her voice was steely and cool, a mother's instinct she had not even earned the right to have yet coming from somewhere deep within.

"They will know tragedy as well as you have. Most would say worse. And you will live to witness at least one of your children turn against all that you have lived and fought for your entire life. Their lives will be riddled with pain and death and in the end, your family will be a shell of its former self."

Leia hugged herself and swallowed the bile that was rising threateningly in her throat. _Her children?_ Han's children. Children that they hadn't even decided if they were going to have and already their future stood clouded before her. After everything she and Han had fought for and sacrificed, was it possible that their children wouldn't reap the rewards? Was it possible that they would only know death and devastation as much as she? Or worse more? Something in the Force told her that it was so. The realization flooded through her and settled in every limb, in every pore and fiber of her being until if felt as if the gravity on Coruscant had been amped up and she was somehow heavier now having this knowledge. Is this how Luke felt?

"There's more if you want to hear it," Luke offered, seemingly aware that there was nothing hidden between them anymore.

She looked once again into the distance. It was strange, when life changed so dramatically in a single second yet everything still remained the same. The world oblivious and yet, somehow, different. "And this will change that…for them?" She asked, her voice a whisper on the wind. "I thought you said destinies were nearly impossible to alter?"

"For me and you? Yes," Luke replied, his tone earnest now. "For the destinies that the universe has already embraced…it is very difficult for them to stray too far off of their chosen path. But for your unborn children? The future is open. The slate would be wiped clean."

"As in they could not be born at all?"

"That is a risk," Luke admitted carefully. "But a small one. They may be born, but at a different time. They will certainly not be the same children of my visions."

Leia wrenched her hands together, her mind furious with thought. "Just how much of a difference will this make for them?"

"A _galaxy_ of difference. An alternate, much more desirable destiny is all too easy for me to see."

"I still don't understand. How can you say that we won't stray too far but then yet you tell me that we can prevent what happened to Alderaan."

"It was Grand Moff Tarkin's destiny to rise to power and misuse it. How he does that may change. It was not the billions of people of Alderaan's destiny to die that day. That is why Ben Kenobi felt their life force being so tragically ripped from the universe. _That_ is why we can change their fate."

Leia hadn't imagined that anything could be important enough to convince her to walk away from the happiness that she had found with Han. But that rug had been pulled from under her now. How could she not take a chance to better the lives of the children that she and Han would create? But then if she changed the past, perhaps they would never create them at all. There was a great chance they would, though. Leia's head felt dizzy. Luke seemed so certain of all it, though. He was also certain that unless they did this their children would know nothing but tragedy and loss. That was one thing that she was very certain of; she had had enough of tragedy and loss for several lifetimes.

She met with Luke's eyes again. "Can I get married first? I'd like to be married."

His relief spread over him visibly, strong enough that Leia felt it like a wave of heat through the Force. "Sure. Your wedding's in a month. I'll get everything ready for after that." He hesitated a moment and then turned around. His hands wrapped firmly around the curved balcony railing. "Have you told Han anything?" He spoke as if to the horizon.

"What's there to tell?" She answered. "You know that he would only try to stop us. And it would break his heart. I'm afraid he'd actually try to kill you."

"He would not be receptive, that's for sure."

She smiled, it was a weak attempt at best. "And you say that you could never be a diplomat."

He turned around to face her. "I know you hate lying to him."

What she hated didn't matter anymore. Obviously. "It's best if he doesn't know. It's best if our last days together are the happiest. Maybe those memories will play some part in us finding each other again."

"You have to believe that, Leia. I know I do."

Leia looked away, her gaze settling somewhere over the horizon and beyond. Of course she believed it, she told herself. It was all that she had left to believe in.


	2. Chapter 2

I wanted to thank everyone for the reviews, they really are encouraging and inspiring. This is a story that I didn't want to write, but kept begging to be written, so any encouragement is appreciated. :-)

(Just a warning: I'm using as much as I know about the prequels from the few times I've seen the movies and from whatever I might want to glean from Wookieepedia. I can't promise I'll be totally canon with the events and characters in this time period but will do my best to at least do that with the main characters (who will mostly be from the OT). If you are a die hard prequel purist, I just wanted you to know that this story will be more about Leia, Han and Luke more than any prequel characters.)

With all that being said...here we go:

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant – Eleven Years Earlier (3 BBY)_

"Jedi Skywalker."

Leia Skywalker turned toward the sound of her name. "Yes, Jedi Master Windu?"

"You've received an interplanetary communiqué."

The sixteen year-old Jedi Padawan allowed a burst of surprise and excitement bubble through the Force. "From whom?"

"I'm not a _secretary_, Jedi Skywalker. You may retrieve your message in your quarters." Master Windu paused and then lifted an eyebrow to her. "And I suggest you practice more on your shielding."

Leia sobered instantly and reined in her emotions so tight as to have herself literally disappear in the Force. It wasn't something everyone could do. It was something that no other Jedi Padawan could do and very few Masters. She did it to prove a point to Master Windu. _Practice shielding, my foot._ This was the sort of thing that always seemed to land her into trouble, however. It was viewed as insubordination. A Jedi had no desire to show off or to prove points. She was the worst Jedi ever.

"Yes, Master Windu," she replied respectfully.

Master Windu's face remained impassive. "Who would've ever thought that your parents' DNA could create such a lethal combination?"

"I only hope to make the best use of what they have bestowed upon me," Leia replied innocently.

Mace Windu looked down his nose at her for a long moment before crossing his arms against his chest. "The words are true enough, yet their _delivery_… How many times have you been told that it is your _brain_ that controls your mouth and not the other way around, Apprentice Skywalker?"

She watched the lights of the long hallway reflect playfully off of the Jedi Master's bald head as he shook it at her, choosing not to answer his obviously rhetorical question.

"To your quarters," he said, finally dismissing her.

"Yes, Master Windu."

* * *

><p>"What did ya do now?"<p>

Leia glanced at her brother before she palmed herself into her quarters. "Nothing. Why?"

"I saw Master Windu talking to you."

"And you just assumed that the only reason a Master would want to speak to me is because I'm in trouble?" The siblings entered Leia's quarters. "Would you quit spying on me? What? Have you already called Mom and Dad?"

"_No_."

Leia walked toward her small desk with Luke following close behind. "I got an interplanetary communiqué. Master Windu was just informing me of it."

"Who's it from? Mom and Dad?"

"I doubt it. We just talked to them yesterday."

"You're right," Luke agreed as he fiddled with a delicate sculpture that sat on the shelf above Leia's desk.

_What's new? _she thought wrily as she snatched the sculpture from his hands and returned it to its proper resting place."I'm betting it's from Winter. The governmental session is about to begin and I'm hoping she'll be coming to Coruscant with her mother and father."

"Can I listen?"

"Sure. It's not like I have anything to hide from you."

Luke was her twin and the two shared everything. Sure they had their disagreements and it seemed lately that the older they got the more they seemed to start to drift apart. Not that they had fought, they just seemed to identify with each other less and less as they hit their teenaged years. Luke was so secure in his future of becoming a Jedi Master while, for Leia, things were not so clear.

Leia pressed a few buttons on her datastation and the small holographic figure of her longtime friend, Winter Organa, appeared as if she was standing on the desk.

"_Jedi Apprentice Skywalker."_

Winter began, her voice and manner calm and poised, as was the usual.

"_The Senatorial Session will begin on Coruscant in two standards months. The Royal Family of Alderaan will be arriving in three days to begin preparations. The Tantive IV has been afforded a private docking bay in the Senatorial hangar. The assignment code is alpha-zero-three-nine-vista. You may contact the hangar for a precise arrival time."_

The holographic figure paused and a smile stretched across its tiny face. For the first time, the young girl appeared every bit of her youthful age of sixteen.

"_I cannot wait to see you, Leia. And do hope you can be there to greet our arrival."_

With that, the figure flickered out.

"Why does she _talk_ like that?" Luke grossed.

"Like what?"

"You know, like she's the Chief of State or something."

"Winter is being groomed by the Organa family to become a senator representing her home planet of Alderaan and perhaps even queen someday. She weighs her every word heavily." Leia shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with the way she acts."

"Sure, okay. I get that," Luke shrugged back in agreement. "But there's one thing that I just can't seem to figure out."

Leia raised an eyebrow at her older brother. "Just one thing? Are you sure about that, Luke?"

"One thing about _Winter_," he clarified drily.

"What's that?"

"Well, she weighs her every word carefully, like you said. She acts…sophisticated and grown up."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, why in the worlds does she hang out with you? What can you two possibly have in common?"

Luke had been backing up slowly toward the exit as he goaded his younger sister. When he was done he turned on his heel and slipped out of the opened door. Leia ran the two steps across her small quarters to chase after him. When she peered around the corridor and saw him running down the hallway, she yelled, "Some Jedi Master you'll ever be, Luke Skywalker! You can't run away from me forever, y'know!"


	3. Chapter 3

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

It was just before dawn in the Jedi Temple. The hallways were empty. Only the nighttime glow from the perpetual city lights of Coruscant streamed through the skylights, casting long, thin shadows along the polished marbled floors. A hooded, robed figure slinked through the temple, pausing at every turn and proceeding cautiously through the maze of corridors. Dangling from the sinewy fingers of its right hand hung a small pair of brown shoes.

Another lone figured followed silently, tracking the hooded figure's every twist and turn stealthily. The hooded figure stopped abruptly as if it had heard something; its cowl twisting slowly back and forth as its dark eyes searched down the long corridors.

The second figure froze, pressing its body tightly against the wall behind it. A skylight above invited the blinking red, green and orange glows of the Coruscant night to dance on the blonde highlights of its tousled hair. It was breathing heavy, its chest heaving in and out. Ever so slowly, it peeled itself away from the wall and peered down the long hallway ahead. Its prey was gone! Disappeared!

The second figure ran cautiously down the deserted hallway; its eyes darting in every direction at once as if expecting its prey to pounce from the vaulted skylights above or spring from the marbled floor and swallow it whole. Its breath was coming in heavy gasps now and its heartbeat pounded through every pulse point in its body.

"_What're you doing?_"

The voice in its ear was low and hissing; its strong arm grabbing the second figure from out of nowhere, spinning it around like a gyrocopter in a wind tunnel.

"Ow!" The second figure whined as it yanked its arm free. "Bloggers, Leia! That hurt."

"Why are you following me?" Leia pushed her hood off of her face, revealing her trademark scowl to her brother.

"Where're you going?" The ying and the yang of the Jedi Temple, Luke's innocent expression, his soft voice, were a perfect contradiction to his sister's.

"You know full well where I'm going," she spat.

"Why are you sneaking out to meet the Organas? Did Master Kenobi say you couldn't go?"

"Not exactly," Leia answered evasively as she began to continue on toward the exit.

"Not exactly? Well, what did he say?"

Leia stopped and turned toward her brother. "He didn't _say_ anything, because I didn't ask him."

Luke's mouth dropped to the ground and Leia continued walking. He quickly recovered and rushed to catch up to her. "And _why_ didn't you ask, pray tell?"

"Because he just would've said no," she replied hotly. "Or he would've made me take someone with me, like Katarn or something. I don't _need_ a babysitter or permission to go across town. This isn't a penitentiary."

The Skywalker twins had been raised under the tutelage of their father, living at the Jedi Temple for just these, their last years of training, before they were to be knighted. It was Leia that struggled most with the lack of freedom the Temple afforded. Her father had opened up the universe to her through their studies and travels and the walls of the Jedi Temple, and even the streets of Coruscant beyond them, felt constricting and insipid in comparison.

They came to the small exit that led to a rarely used service entrance. The twins stood before the door and stared at each other.

"You didn't even _ask_, Leia. How do you know for sure what they would've said?"

"I _know_ what they would've said. You give everyone the benefit of the doubt, Luke. Meanwhile, I'll take things into my own hands."

"What if you get caught?" He asked, desperation crawling into his voice. Pointing at the locked door beside them he said, "You can't even open these service doors. They need to be activated from both sides."

As if brought on by some higher force or _the_ Force, the access panel illuminated and muffled noises could be heard on the other side of the door. Luke's eyes widened into saucers and he looked ready to run for his life. Leia quickly slipped her shoes on her feet and then slid her hand over the panel. On the other side of the door stood a delivery droid.

"Whutta bread for the kitchen staff. Special delivery to the southeast entrance," its mechanical voice announced as it presented a handheld datapad.

"Yes, thank you. About that," Leia replied. "Turns out the delivery should go to the normal entrance on the northwest end."

Luke rolled his eyes and thumped his head against the stoned wall.

"Special delivery instructions to the southeast entrance," the droid repeated.

"Yes, I know about the special delivery instructions, but now those instructions have to change." Leia could feel the color lifting up her neck to her cheeks. The last thing she needed was for some procedure-happy droid to foul up her plans, especially not in front of Luke! She'd never hear the end of it.

"Here," Luke said curtly, taking the datapad from the droid's mechanical fingers. "I'll take care of this. You just go."

Leia's lips curled into a smile and she leaned in and gave her brother a quick kiss on the cheek. "You're the best. Have I ever told you that?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Except for when I'm not."

Leia chuckled and then turned toward the door. "Oh," she said, snapping her fingers. "One more thing."

Luke's shoulders drooped. "What?"

"Can you meet me back here at sixteen-hundred and let me back in?"

Now it was Luke's turn to turn red. "Of all the-," he stammered. "How'd you expect to get back in without me?"

"I didn't," she stated smartly. "I knew you'd follow me." And with one last wink at her brother, she slipped out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

Leia arrived at the private diplomatic hangar just in time to watch the _Tantive IV_ touchdown. The young Jedi had always held a fascination for space travel and flight, most probably carried through the genes of her starfighter pilot father. For some, the pungent smells of the busy hangar – from the exhaust fumes, to the macro fuser vapors and heavy scent of grease - may have seemed offensive. But for Leia, they smelled like freedom.

As soon as the repulsor engines whined down and the boarding ramp was lowered, the young Jedi strode quickly toward the large, looming Corellian Corvette. A few Alderaanian officers ambled down the ramp to stand on either side of it, their white-domed helmets gleaming in the artificial light of the cavernous hangar bay. The approach of the petite, robed, female figure did not seem to alert them to any danger as they stood quietly at attention, backs ramrod straight.

Leia recognized the flowing robes and the large booted feet of the Queen and Viceroy of Alderaan respectively. The Organa family had been close friends of the Skywalker family for years. Alderaan had stood on the side of the Republic and the Jedi during the broiling events of the Clone Wars. Her mother and Bail Organa had served together in the Galactic Senate before she was born. Leia was positive that she wasn't privy to all of the history that must have passed behind the closed doors of this long-standing friendship.

Following closely behind the two approaching humans, she saw two massive, clawed, furry feet. Towering at least a meter over the Queen and Viceroy was Chewbacca, personal guard to the Alderaan Royal Family.

"Jedi Skywalker!" Bail Organa bellowed as he caught sight of her. "You grow more beautiful, just like your mother, every day." As the royal couple now stood before her, the Viceroy grabbed her chin as if to study every facet of her porcelain-skinned face. "I'm not sure how your father manages to sleep soundly on Naboo with you running around the streets of Coruscant. You must be beating the boys off with the proverbial lightsaber."

In her mind Leia thought that the only boy she wanted to beat with a lightsaber was her brother. But aloud, she answered politely, "No, not quite."

"I'm sure she isn't _running the streets_, Bail. You act as if there aren't Jedi Masters in charge of her care," Breha chided her husband.

Leia blanched. _If only they knew the half of it_.

"How are your parents, Leia?" Breha questioned.

"Very well, thank you. I linformed them of your visit and they instructed me to send you their best." Years of grueling etiquette training made Leia's manners easy to turn on and off as necessary. _Mother would be proud_.

"Please return the sentiment when you speak to them next. Will they perhaps be visiting Coruscant within the next few months?"

"Quite possibly. If all goes well, the knighting ceremony will be in a few months."

"Don't tell me," Bail said teasingly. "Both Skywalkers will have to duel to the death to be at the top of the class."

"Bail!" Breha exclaimed reproachfully.

"No, sir," Leia replied, smiling broadly. "If anything, Luke would have that honor. I'll just be thankful if they pass me." _Because my father will kill me if they don't_.

Bail reached around and pulled Leia under one of his arms, hugging her to him. "As will your parents, I'm sure," he agreed as he laughed loudly. "Now go on. Winter's waiting in her quarters, you know the way."

"Thank you," Leia replied excitedly as she turned toward the ramp. She wished her father would be as accepting as Bail Organa.

The Wookiee, Chewbacca, who had remained stoically silent during the exchange, growled a friendly greeting to the young girl as she passed.

"You too, Chewie!" Leia answered him as she ran up the ramp.

* * *

><p>"I do envy you your life," Leia sighed as she sprawled out on the bed. "It's completely unfair that Jedi aren't allowed to run for political office."<p>

Winter Organa, standing at her dresser, snuck a cursory glance at the young Jedi and then returned to the task of packing her bag. "_So_," she ventured curiously. "That's something that you've continued to pursue?"

She and Leia had been friends for as long as she could remember and Winter remembered everything…literally. Her adoptive father, Bail Organa, and Leia's mother, Padme Skywalker, served together in the Senate and had been long-time friends. Leia had always expressed an interest in politics and had often accompanied her mother to Coruscant for these same governmental sessions when she was younger.

Leia spun around to her stomach, her knees bent and her feet up in the air behind her. "Yes, but as with everything for me, it seems to be but another lost cause. My father, in the end, being my sole supporter."

_There are entire worlds that would settle for that kind of support_. Leia's father was arguably the strongest Jedi in history. "Well, Anakin Skywalker bucking the old Jedi code isn't anything new now, is it? You and your brother are walking, talking proof of that."

Not only had Anakin Skywalker successfully lobbied to change the Jedi code to allow marriage, he had upturned the concept of separating children from their parents after being identified as Jedi Initiates – or younglings. It was true that some were still taken to the temple and trained, as had been the custom, away from their parents from as early as the age of five. But some were allowed to live at home and receive training from dedicated local Jedi Masters. Such was the case for the Skywalker twins. But they were the only Jedi at their local 'school' and their own _father_ had been their dedicated Master.

"Yes, and we're also the reason that he has very little sway with the Jedi Council to this day. The code may have been changed to allow marriage by Jedi, but it came at the highest of prices. It is still, for all intents and purposes, a choice between the two."

Winter didn't entirely agree with Leia's assessment. Nevertheless, she chose her next words carefully. "Your father is a Jedi Master. He still practices and fights alongside of them as any other." Winter bit her tongue on pointing out that Anakin Skywalker had refused membership on at least two of the _other_ Jedi Councils. The Skywalkers, as did the universe it seemed, only really recognized one council and that was the Jedi High Council.

"But he can never be on the council!" Leia drew her knees up beneath her and now knelt upon the bed. "And there is a stigma attached to those that marry, don't tell me there's not. Anyway, the code wasn't changed enough in my opinion. And that includes this ridiculousness about Jedi not being allowed to hold political office."

Winter stilled her hands and turned to focus all of her attention onto her best friend. Where Winter exuded tranquil patience, Leia radiated a red-hot impulsiveness that was almost palpable in the room. Like her father, Leia had been offered a position that she had dismissed as not worthy, that of a Jedi diplomat. It was the closest a Jedi was allowed to holding office. It was true that, before her and Leia's time, exceptions had been made to this rule in question. But ever since Palpatine…

"Leia, the Jedi code has been honed and crafted over many millennia. If something was written into it, you can be certain that there was a very good reason. We're lucky to have seen a dramatic change, such as the acceptance of marriage, happen in our lifetimes." She turned back to her carryall. "Give it time and perhaps more change will come. You cannot fix the galaxy in one day."

"It's not the galaxy that I want to fix," Leia argued. "The galaxy will always have its issues. My mother has always told me that. It's best to focus on the small changes that you can make in the galaxy and reap the rewards that _they_ bring forth. No one, not even the Jedi should carry the weight of the universe on their shoulders. It must be spread throughout the masses or whoever is left holding it, be it the Jedi, the Sith - _goddess forbid_ - or the politicians, will eventually and inevitably stumble."

Winter didn't answer but only turned to Leia and gave her a warm broad smile. The sliver of influence that Padme had obviously bestowed upon her willful daughter was always a welcomed discovery.

"What?" Leia asked, suddenly blushing.

"Nothing. You're just…" Winter shook her head, her long platinum braids swinging against her back. "You'd make an excellent politician, that's all."

It was strange the way life played out sometimes. It was true, Winter couldn't have asked for a better life, and she was destined to serve in politics, but if she herself had been able to choose… Well, she didn't wish to dwell on that.

"Too bad we'll never know," Leia huffed. "But I can live vicariously through you." Her demeanor instantly lightened. "So, tell me then. Will you become a senator this term?"

As Winter turned around to answer her, the chime at her door rang melodiously. She held her finger up. "Hold that thought," she instructed as she strode toward the door. As it slid opened, she recognized the gold-plated protocol droid. "What is it, Threepio?"

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, Mistress Winter. Please don't deactivate me, but Artoo insisted that I come here."

A series of beeps, blats and whistles came from Artoo Detoo and Winter eyed him curiously. She turned her attention back to the taller droid. "That's quite alright, Threepio. Do you know why Artoo needed to see me?"

"Oh, I apologize if I misled you, but it isn't _you_ that he insists he needs to see."

"I'm not quite sure I follow you."

"Well, you see, Mistress Winter, I'm afraid my counterpart here claims to have a message for your guest, the Jedi Apprentice Leia Skywalker. I can't fathom what he might be referring to. We haven't had any dealings in Jedi business for as long as I can recall," Threepio prattled on.

Winter glanced back at Leia. The young Jedi had untucked her legs from beneath her and was now sitting on the edge of the bed looking quite confused and intrigued. She lifted her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders.

Winter turned back to the droids. "That's quite alright, Threepio." She then took a step back and said, "Please, come in."


	5. Chapter 5

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

Two anxious young girls and one fussy protocol droid hovered around the small, rounded dome of the Artoo unit. The little mechanical tilted his body in the perfect rendition of a royal bow and a brilliant beam of light shot out of his projection port. The tiny image of a woman appeared. She had dark hair and wore the casual clothes of the diplomats on Coruscant. For a moment Leia thought that it was her mother, having caught her sneaking out of the Temple. But then the figure began to speak:

"_Leia. I don't know how to properly address you. Because you are me. Or I am you. The future you. I can only assume that you will find this in another time and place. You see, Luke and I - Luke's your brother, your twin brother, but hopefully you'll know that - Luke found a way to go back in time and fix a few things so that our futures would be better. I can't really give you any details. Luke would kill me if he knew I was doing this at all. But you see, there's one thing that I wanted to tell you."_

Leia, the _real_ Leia, stood staring with eyes the size of moons at the small figure that was claiming to be her future self. The holo Leia shook her head as she seemed to be struggling for what to say. Then she continued.

"_Above all else, no matter how horrific my life has been and regardless of the tragedies that I have witnessed there is only _one thing_, _one reason_ why I didn't want to go back and change it all for the better. Depending on how old you are when you find this, and I've instructed Artoo not to show you this until you are at least a certain age, you may find it hard to believe or,"_ the elder Leia laughed. _"Or perhaps, knowing myself, you may find this hard to believe at any age. But the reason I didn't want to change anything, the _one_ sole reason was that…I love someone." _

The holo Leia closed her eyes, as if to give the words a minute to marinate. The real Leia took that moment to search out the eyes of her best friend. Winter appeared to be as awestruck and dumbfounded as Leia found herself to be. Before they could trade their impressions, the holographic figure continued.

"_I love someone more than life itself. More than peace in the galaxy and happiness for my entire lifetime. But I guess…that isn't entirely true because here I am, helping Luke do this thing that is supposed to erase it all. You see, I chose once again to put the happiness of the entire galaxy above my own. But I pray to save _this one thing_." _She paused and her demeanor seemed to brighten as she continued._ "I got married last week. And everything in my life was…is perfect. This man is, and can be, the only one that understands me and loves me for who I am. Who you are. I do worry that if I grow up under different circumstances that perhaps I won't be who I am today. But even then...even then, I have to believe that he and I are meant for each other and deserve to end up together over a million possible futures I could weave." _

The holo Leia glanced to the side as if she was expecting someone. The real Leia took the opportunity to remind herself to breathe. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest.

"_Anyway," _the holo Leia sighed._ "I have to go now. I've instructed this Artoo unit, who has played a vital role in my life and the lives of those closest to me for a long, long time, to deliver this to you some time in what will be your future, my past. I only hope that, in this alternate future, you still come across him, find this message and drop your hard-headed stubbornness for just these few minutes and try and believe what I say."_

Leia felt her friend elbow her in the side. "Sounds like you've got your own number," she whispered.

"_His name is Han Solo and he is from Corellia. When I met him he was a smuggler and an outlaw and an overall scoundrel. He was…," _she paused, searching for the right words._ "Arrogant and self-centered and teased me incessantly. I only tell you these things to warn you, because underneath all of that he is the most patient, kind, intelligent and brave man that I have ever known. And I've had occasion to meet many brave men and women in the life I have led."_

The woman in the holo shook her head helplessly and Leia could almost _feel_ her pain.

"_If it's love you cannot force it. I know that and so must you. If you only maybe could find him. Or open up yourself to the possibility. I don't know. I don't know if what we do here today will forever taint the path of our love. But this man. I would die a thousand times for him and he for me. And no matter how different I sound to you, I _am_ you. I know that may be hard to believe and you could never imagine yourself giving up any of your dreams and aspirations, whatever they may be now, for any one man."_ She smiled. _"But you will. And it will be the most fantastic experience you'll ever know. Trust me."_

The holo woman stood there for a silent moment and then fizzled in the fading light of the droid's holoprojector. The room was quiet for a moment as all present seemed to be absorbing the events that had just transpired.

It was Winter who spoke first. "That is, by far, the strangest thing I have ever witnessed," she whispered in disbelief.

Leia, for quite possibly the first time in her life that she could recall, was speechless.


	6. Chapter 6

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

After another long moment of stunned silence, Artoo whistled, beeped and whirred.

The girls looked to Threepio.

"What did he say?" Leia asked, finally finding her voice.

"He says the message has now been destroyed. It was a single use program to be obliterated upon delivery. He has no means of recovering it. And he has also erased it from my memory." The droid paused as if just realizing what he said. "From my memory? What are you talking about?" He barked at Artoo. "What message? Why did you make me come here?"

Leia and Winter exchanged confused shrugs as Winter dismissed a bumbling Threepio and chittering Artoo from the room. The door slid closed behind the droids and the girls were left alone once again.

Leia whispered absently, still staring at the floor where the tiny holo of her future self had stood. "I'm glad I had you with me. I'd like to remember exactly what she…_I_ said."

Winter had a special gift. A holographic and audio graphic memory, able to recall any events she saw and heard with crystal clear clarity. The white-haired girl only nodded in agreement, her mouth still hanging open slightly in disbelief, her eyes staring at her friend as if she had suddenly transformed into a stranger. She shook her head and heaved a deep, cleansing breath. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't know." Leia shook her head as well. She looked up to her friend as if searching for answers in her face. Then she shrugged and said, "I guess that's me. I mean…_was_ me or _will be_ me. Whatever. But could it be a fluke? A joke? It seems too far-fetched and complex to be Luke's doing."

"No, you're right. I don't think this was any joke. It's all very intriguing."

Leia noticed the sparkle in her friend's eyes. Winter secretly dreamed of being some sort of double-agent and felt just as burdened with the duties of political office as Leia felt by her Jedi robes. Of course, Winter bore her burden much more regally than Leia did. "I know, right?" Leia replied, her brain beginning to work again. "There's some man out there that I _married_ in another life."

"Yes, _that_," Winter agreed. "But what about the other things she alluded to?"

"Like what?"

"Like how horrific she said her life had been. The _tragedies_ she had suffered. And she also wondered if you would even know your own brother. Just how bad had things been for Luke to figure out a way to come back and change them?"

Leia's eyebrows furrowed and she chewed on her thumbnail as she thought about it. Dropping her hand she finally said, "Yeah, and in what universe did Luke know how to do something that I didn't?"

"_That's_ what you're worried about?"

"Well, it does seem pretty unbelievable, doesn't it?"

Winter shook her head at her friend and then walked back over to her abandoned carryall. "So, are you going to look for him?"

Leia bit her lip and walked over to the oval viewport in Winter's quarters. She watched the humanoids and droids scurrying around the hangar floor below. "I don't know. What do I do? Waltz up to him and tell him that he's my soul mate?"

"She did say not to try and force it."

"Yeah, and she didn't make him sound all that appealing either." Leia walked across the room and plopped herself back on Winter's bed.

"For some reason it doesn't surprise me that the person you'd finally fall in love with would be a prince in nerf's clothing."

Leia scrunched her face up at her friend and gave her a scowl.

"Corellia," Winter said absently.

"Yeah, I've actually been there," Leia replied, falling back onto the bed.

"And we're _going_ there. I mean, Bail and I. I saw his schedule for the upcoming sessions." She closed her eyes. "It's about four months away, but it's definitely Corellia."

Leia sat up abruptly. "Maybe I could go with you."

"How would you manage that? And to what end?"

"I've been lobbying to shadow your father. If I could be knighted by then, I'd have some free time before winter session." Leia felt for once very motivated to complete her Jedi training. She stood. "Besides, when have I _not_ gotten what I wanted?"

"_Okay_. So you get to Corellia. Then what? Like you said, you can't exactly introduce yourself as his future wife."

"No," Leia agreed. She wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to do – wasn't exactly sure what she thought about all of this. She was sure of one thing, however: she couldn't just ignore it. "But she had _just_ gotten married and she looked at least a dozen years older than me. I could just call it reconnaissance for now."

"_Reconnaissance?_"

"Yeah." It felt right. That little voice that guided her seemed at peace. "Just a little investigation," she repeated.

"So, what do you think about what she said? Do you think you would ever give up _everything_ for a man?"

Winter looked amused by the thought. Leia rolled her eyes, but allowed her mind to wander just a little while down that unfamiliar train of thought. There hadn't been many boys that had turned her head and those that had had quickly proved themselves not worth the effort. Although her father had fought for the rights of Jedi to form attachments, she had all but decided that she would never reap the rewards of that particular benefit.

Could it be possible for someone to mean that much to her? To understand and accept her? To love her so intensely that she would forsake all else? Like her mother and father's love had been, she imagined. A love that had changed the Jedi code. What would a love like that feel like? What would a man like that be like?

She felt a warmth creep up her neck and she quickly caught herself. Looking up, she found Winter staring at her and Leia tried to play it off by saying, "Hmmm. It does seem utterly ridiculous, doesn't it?"

"Then why are you blushing?" Winter teased.

There wasn't much she kept from her best friend. Still, she didn't like being bested. She opened her mouth to argue but before Leia had a chance to answer, Winter said, "Oh! What will you tell Luke?"

This comment immediately took the bite out of Leia's reply, derailing her witty retort. If she found it hard to hide things from Winter, it was nearly impossible to keep things from her twin brother. "Nothing," Leia replied firmly as she stood. _Even if it absolutely kills me_. "Not a single thing."

What a strange day this had turned out to be! Aside from the obvious implications of that message, Leia continued to dwell on one seemingly very odd detail. That woman - her future self or alternate self, whatever she was – had definitely seemed to have a respect and deference to Luke's abilities. _What alternate universe could have ever brought _that_ about? _

The very thought made Leia shudder and she looked back at her friend and said, "If that woman had anything right, it was keeping her little plan a secret from do-everything-by-the-book Luke Skywalker."

Winter raised her hands up in surrender and swore herself to secrecy. Meanwhile Leia made her repeat the message to her while she recorded it on Winter's personal datapad and downloaded it onto an encrypted datacard to take with her. Leia then walked Winter to her hotel and the pair parted ways.

* * *

><p>As Leia made her way back to the Jedi temple she replayed the words that she had just heard again and again through her mind, tumbling further into her thoughts. It all seemed surreal and very difficult to grasp. Not only that her future self had somehow found a way to travel back in time to contact her, but that <em>that<em> was the message she felt compelled to send her. She wondered what had been altered or changed and what had gone so terribly wrong so as to make them come back and fix it.

And then there was the idea of knowing in advance whom she might be destined to be with.

At sixteen, Leia hadn't given much thought to boys and marriage. Sure, some girls – regular civilian girls – may entertain those flights of fancy, but Leia never had. Nor had her friends who were either Jedi like herself or, like Winter, children of families with some galactic significance with more important things to worry themselves with and no time to be so frivolous.

Not that she didn't find some boys attractive. It wasn't as if she didn't have the same hormones as everyone else, she just chose to channel them differently. And the idea of some _man_, or more aptly he was probably a boy at this point like herself, being something that would become more important to her than life itself was almost laughable to the young teenager. She dismissed the thoughts with a shrug of her shoulders.

This entire ordeal could still be someone's idea of a practical joke, although her Force senses told her that it wasn't. Either way, she wasn't about to get sucked into this alternate universe feet first. Her trip to Corellia would be just what she said it would be…reconnaissance. This Han Solo character might not even exist, after all. Or his life may have changed as dramatically as it seemed hers had.

Or this may be some sort of trap that had been set for her.

That last thought gave her a start. It wasn't as if the galaxy didn't house its fair share of those people that might want to cause harm to her or her family. Memories of what had happened to her mother and her grandmother shivered through her mind. No, the idea of someone wanting to lure her into a trap and kill her was not a foreign one. Although this didn't feel like a trap, she would still have to be wary. The Jedi's stance on time travel and altering the past was firm. It wasn't justified under any circumstances. In fact, it reeked of the Dark Side.

Why hadn't she thought of that before?

She had been so wrapped up in the personal implications of the message that she hadn't even considered the vehicle of their delivery. But it had been her future self that had contacted her. Was it wrong to assume that in the future she would still be a Jedi? Or had it really been her? That could've been easily manipulated, especially by a Sith Lord. Now she seriously began to consider whether or not she should tell her brother or her father or one of the Masters about this message. But that didn't feel right, either. The Sith had been gone for so long, it seemed absurd to think that _this_ would be the way in which they would choose to return.

No, there was no Dark Side danger surrounding these events that she could sense...at least not yet.

The Jedi Temple appeared in the far distance. She drew in a deep breath and expelled it along with her flurry of thoughts and worries. She would keep it all to herself for now, she decided. There could be no harm in going to Corellia with the Organas, nothing in the Force blared in alarm when she considered it and by the time she reached the Temple she had already puzzled out how she would talk her way into going there. Now all she had to do was to bide her time for four long months. That would be plenty enough time to meditate and seek guidance.

And perhaps change her mind.


	7. Chapter 7

It is Your Destiny…

_Tantive IV, on approach to Corellia (4 months later)_

Leia Skywalker stood on the bridge of the _Tantive IV_ as it lowered onto the crowded hangar bay of the Corellian interplanetary spaceport. Unlike on Coruscant, the Royal Family of Alderaan's personal ship was not granted access to the exclusive Presidential hangar. Corellians were a traditionally proud people and their deference to such things as nobility and tradition left a lot to be desired, especially by those who did live by it. As Leia eyed the filth and vagrancy that was in overabundance in this urban area, she lifted her chin and straightened her posture.

The wounds of the short-lived Clone Wars had still not fully healed throughout the galaxy. These impoverished citizens of Corellia were a perfect example of that. It was not any better or worse here on Corellia than any other major metropolitan area - no worse than Coruscant even. But on Coruscant the evidence lived far underground, out of sight and out of mind from the very people high above that shaped the laws that most affected them. Leia almost preferred the flat grounds of Corellia, where a governor, senator or king could see his constituents in all their levels of wealth and poverty. It would certainly prove humbling, in Leia's opinion.

It was certainly humbling to her.

Leia glanced to either side of her. To her right stood the Viceroy Organa, with Winter to her left. Using her Jedi senses, Leia could feel the ever present watchful eye of Chewbacca standing silently behind them. She let her mind wander to the experiences that Corellia might have in store for her, looking for any signs or warning from the Force. The path ahead held no physical danger as had always been the indications during her four-month long wait. All else seemed to be wrapped in a murky shroud, as the future would always likely be.

With so long to ponder on the strange message that she had received, allegedly from the future, Leia had been able to compartmentalize its significance. At the forefront was the danger of such a message. All else must pale in comparison. She would have to remain focused on the Force energies surrounding her and hypersensitive to the cold nuances of the Dark Side. She should be no more surprised to find this Han Solo to be dripping in Dark Side energy as she would be to find him otherwise. Yet, it could very well be that his only threat to her would be at stealing her heart.

Either way, she found both alternatives quite unsettling.

Leia felt the ship touch down onto the grounds of Corellia and Winter nudged her gently with an elbow and gave her a look of anticipation and amusement. Leia drew a deep breath and released it, allowing herself to shed those heavy thoughts for a moment and join Winter in a more benign outlook on their little endeavor. During the past few months, both of the young girls had researched the now very intriguing Han Solo. Surprisingly, he was nearly a decade older than Leia, twenty-five to her sixteen and far from being a smuggler or criminal, as her future self had claimed. The man, for he was not a boy, was an officer in the Corellian Navy with an impressive record. So much, in fact, had seemingly changed from what this future Leia had told them about him, that both Leia and Winter held out hope that Han Solo might have also turned pleasant and amiable during the transition.

This would be especially fortunate, Leia thought, since his military holo had made him quite nice to look at.

* * *

><p>It wasn't hard for the two young girls to find free time to explore Corellia on their own. Well, mostly on their own. It seemed Bail Organa thought it might be a good idea to send his personal bodyguard along with them. Leia, on a personal level, detested the idea of needing a babysitter. But she was a guest and Chewie was actually much more pleasant to be around than any traditional military, bodyguard type. Although Leia suspected that the Wookiee actually paid more attention to his duties than he let on.<p>

Nevertheless, the intrepid pair, followed by the silent Wookiee, meandered nonchalantly through the streets of Coronet, Corellia's capitol, toward the Naval facilities. Hoping to make an impromptu visit appear…well, impromptu.

* * *

><p>The Coronet Naval building was impressive and architecturally appeasing by most military standards. The two girls feigned pleasant surprise to find themselves standing in front of it. Leia had thought the entire charade to be ridiculous, arguing that Chewbacca would probably just tell Winter's father that the two girls went straight to the shipyards to ogle handsome men in uniforms. Winter was appalled at the very idea of being accused of such a thing and insisted that Chewie be kept in the dark.<p>

It was a happy coincidence that Leia Skywalker was no stranger to play acting, even if she tended toward the overdramatic. "Oh, I do adore studying the various star ships," Leia proclaimed, while standing outside of the navy building.

Winter widened her eyes at her and mouthed the word 'adore' with a questioning grin.

"_What?_" Leia whispered with a shrug and then louder, for Chewie's benefit, she added, "You know my brother Luke plans on joining the Republic Navy while I go to university."

Winter rolled her eyes. "I'm sure a tour could be arranged," she stated simply. And then the princess turned to her bodyguard. "Would you mind, Chewbacca?"

The Wookiee barked and gestured, quite determinedly, down the street.

"Well, if Leia and I could get into the casino we would certainly go with you, I promise. But for now, let's do this, shall we?"


	8. Chapter 8

It is Your Destiny…

_Corellia_

Sargeant Nikoli Kelliwa was a long and lanky male human with red hair and pale, freckled skin. He was also a cadet in the Corellian Navy and had been tasked with the unfortunate assignment of acting as a guide for the unannounced visitors from Coruscant.

Nikoli looked only slightly older than either Leia or Winter and he was, apparently, deathly afraid of Wookiees. It was for this reason, Leia suspected - or possibly the boy was just reaching puberty - that his voice creaked and cracked the entire time he toured them through the large, naval facilities and yard. For Leia and Winter it was at first humorous and then sort of sad and then just plain aggravating.

It seemed to provide endless amusement to Chewbacca, however.

After traipsing through yet another empty hallway of deserted dormitories, the girls finally put a discreet distance between themselves and their Wookiee shadow and Winter asked their tour guide as nonchalantly as possible, "Do you know of a Commander Solo?"

Leia could feel the young soldier's spark of recognition through the Force and she glanced back at Chewie to see if he was listening. The Wookiee was sniffing around the edges of a door. _Perhaps we could shake him loose if we passed a cafeteria?_

"Sure," the nervous soldier answered, and Leia turned her attention back ahead. "Who doesn't know Solo?"

"Right," Winter agreed. "Is he on base today?"

"Ah, let's see," Nikoli replied, rubbing at his chin and rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. "He may be in the repair hangar."

"The repair hangar? Good. Can you take us there?"

"Oh, sorry ma'ams," Nikoli apologized to both of them. "But the repair hangar is off-limits to visitors."

"But not to diplomatic visitors such as Ambassador Organa, correct?" Leia asked, projecting her thoughts through the Force.

"But not to diplomatic visitors," Nikoli repeated as if convincing himself. "Correct," he finally agreed, still looking confused.

Winter rolled her eyes again as Leia beamed proudly. This sort of thing would land her on KP duty for a month back on Coruscant. It was also the most fun she had had in a long time.

* * *

><p>"The Princess of Alderaan, Winter Organa," Nikoli announced to the living, breathing male human that belonged to the holopicture that Leia had been studying and meditating on for the past four months.<p>

"Commander Solo, at your service. I apologize for my uniform. _This_ part of the base usually isn't part of the tour." The young man, because now Leia decided that he did look younger than she thought he would have, had added a reprimanding tone to his last sentence.

"These are _diplomatic_ visitors," Nikoli tried to explain.

"Perhaps the Commander could see to it that we find our way back to a non-restricted area?" Winter asked innocently.

"Uh, sure," Han answered and then curtly turned to Nikoli, "Dismissed, soldier."

If Leia could've taken her eyes off of Han Solo, she would've seen Nikoli Kelliwa scurry away like a Coruscanti sewer rat. But she could not. It was not as if she was so enthralled by his good looks that she suddenly couldn't think straight. She was not apt to those sorts of girlish distractions. _Although, by the goddess he is good looking_. It was more the idea that this man would one day profess his dying love to her, or at least marry her, which were one in the same. Weren't they?

"So, are you a princess, too?"

Leia realized that he was talking to her and snapped out of her daze. "No, a Jedi," she replied. _Which you are most definitely not_. He wasn't a Sith Lord either. From what Leia could tell, he was as Force sensitive as a stone paver.

"You're Leia Skywalker," he announced flatly.

For a moment she half-expected him to fall down on one knee and kiss her knuckles. But of course, no. He knew _of_ her. He didn't know her. And he looked anything but ready to profess his love to her. "One and the same," she replied coyly. _Reel it in, Skywalker!_ She was fumbling over her readings of him. He was difficult to discern to be sure, but she partly blamed herself for that. _Not apt to girlhood distractions, my foot_.

He seemed wholly unimpressed by her. His eyes left hers and traveled far over her head as he said, "And you're Chewbacca."

Chewie barked something glib about babysitting duties and Leia was shocked when Han answered him coherently by saying, "Yeah, I know how it is. My Fleet Commander likes to lend me out, too."

If Leia hadn't been so disconcerted by her future husband, she would've taken offense to Chewie's comment. As it was, Han's attention had left Chewie and returned to the two young girls in front of him.

"Well…what now, ladies?"

That was a really good question, Leia decided. But she had no really good answer. In all these four long months she had concentrated so heavily on the mere act of finding him that she had no idea what she planned to do or say once she did. He was here. He existed. And he wasn't a Sith Lord. W_hat now?_


	9. Chapter 9

It is Your Destiny…

_Corellia_

It was the Wookiee who suggested lunch. Han thought that he would've been a bit rusty with his Shyriiwook, but it seemed to come back to him fairly easily. Listening to and talking to Chewbacca made him think of Dewlanna and the time he had spent with the old Wookiee cook on Shrike's ship. He really should make another trip to Kashyyyk to see her. She was the only 'family' that he had left. The Corellian Navy was his family now, but that wasn't quite the same. The old Wook cared for him during a time when no one else did and he owed it to her to let her know how well he was doing now. It would make her happy; she would be proud of the man that he had become.

But now was not the time to stroll down memory lane. He had to attend to his unexpected guests. Their appearance in a restricted area of the base was suspect, especially in light of the project he had been working on. The presence of a Jedi in their group made that fact all the more alarming. Han had no love for the Jedi. In his experience, wherever the Jedi were - with their magic show powers - trouble was soon to follow.

As he led the group toward the mess hall, he listened disinterestedly as Leia Skywalker rattled on about her aspirations for political office. _That's all the galaxy needs, another Jedi in the Senate._ Although Han wasn't entirely convinced that Chancellor Palpatine had really been a danger to the galaxy as the Jedi had proclaimed after his murder. But what it had made very clear was that it was best to keep the two separate to avoid any similar threats in the future.

The Skywalker girl had been in the middle of a sentence when he cut her off and announced that they had arrived at the mess hall. It was cafeteria style and the four of them went through the line and filled their trays. The three humans sat together at a table for four. Chewbacca opted to sit alone just a few meters away. Han noticed that the Wookiee immediately began to chitter into a comlink as soon as he was alone.

"How did you know of Chewbacca?" Leia asked him.

He didn't care for the way she spoke, although something about her eyes was mesmerizing. He couldn't recall if he had ever seen eyes so dark and deep. "We're the Corellian military. It's our business to know." He looked down at his plate, realizing that he had never been this close to a Jedi before. The experience was an uncomfortable one. He knew that most of the mystifying rumors about them were untrue, and that they could only control and read the thoughts of the weak-minded. At the moment he hoped that he was as strong-willed as all of his superiors had always claimed him to be.

"You act as if you've performed reconnaissance on the Royal Family of Alderaan. Surely I must be mistaken," Leia continued.

"No," he answered tightly, forcing himself to look at her again. "You're not."

"It's quite common knowledge, Leia," Winter offered.

Han then turned and considered her - the young Princess of Alderaan. She was not as outspoken as the Jedi. Her eyes were cool and calculating but her smile was warm and genuine. Still, something about the pair had his senses on full alert. Eventually he would puzzle this all out...he always did.

"I thought Corellia stood firmly with the Republic," Leia replied, her comment directed at Han.

"For now," he responded noncommittally. "But I've been out of the academy for a long time and back when I was hitting the books, Alderaan was on the other side of a war. Knowledge isn't just something you can turn on and off at the signing of a treaty. Besides, it isn't very often you meet a Wookiee in the company of the Princess of Alderaan." Han paused and shoveled a few bites of food into his mouth. He noticed the Jedi scanning the room. _That's all I need, a jumpy Jedi. _"Don't get your senses in a wad. You're perfectly safe here," he assured her but felt certain that she didn't take any comfort from his words.

Truth was Han held little allegiance to any political party. He had seen them all in his time and they all had their fair share of dirty laundry. And while he was being honest, he held no undying loyalty to the Corellian Navy, either. It was a job and no more. Not that they wouldn't get the very best of him while they had him, but they wouldn't have him forever. Not if he could help it. A day didn't go by when he didn't dream of getting off of this rock. That's why this current assignment was so important to him. It could very well be his ticket out of here and he didn't need two meddling diplomats screwing that up for him.

"You're not a fan of the Jedi," Leia stated flatly.

He looked up and found the young girl staring at him, again. _Does she ever shut up?_ "How'd you guess?"

"Did you know that Sergeant very well?" The other girl, Winter, interjected. "I'd like to thank his commander for-"

"You recognized me," the Jedi cut her off, her dark eyes trained on Han. "I could tell you knew who I was and that there was… an animosity there."

There was something about this girl. She was dangerous and somehow he felt that she was dangerous to him - personally. But Han had never made a habit out of shying away from danger. If she had come here to push anybody around, she had picked the wrong guy. Besides, how old was she anyway? Twelve?

"Of course, I know who you are. The mighty Skywalker family. Your father supposedly saved us from the Dark Lord of the Sith or some such thing." He leaned his forearms on the table, inching his face closer to hers. "You know a lotta people around here don't see how old man Palpatine could've been all that dangerous. In fact, we find it mighty curious. Seeing how close he'd been with your _mother_."

His comment had scored a direct hit. He watched as her eyes turned cool. "I'm well aware of the differing opinions throughout the galaxy, Commander. I can assure you that my father did not act out of any petty jealousies as you might read in a holorag." Han leaned back in his chair, happy to have found a chink in the infamous Jedi armor. Leia continued, "But people are entitled to believe what they will. Suffice it to say, that is not what I believe."

"_Of course_, we know what you believe and we know why you believe it. The question is: do you know why we don't?"

She didn't answer. Her friend moved to speak for her, but Han spoke first, leaning forward again as if for the kill. "You're so blinded by your Jedi teachings that you can't see anything else, can you? How d'ya think you'll ever be a politician, representing an entire _world_ of people when you can't see anything but from your own point of view? History can be told in a million different ways, sister. How many ways have you studied it?"

"We are both well-versed-" Winter began, but the Skywalker girl cut her off.

"No, go ahead. Say your peace, Commander. Perhaps you'll feel better once you get that chip off of your shoulder."

He almost felt guilty for attacking her. Almost. She was so much younger than him, yet, she seemed to be asking for it, seemed to have come here specifically for it. "Alright, you really want to hear it?" He set his utensil down. "You guys act like saviors of the universe, as if we should bow down to your presence. But from the way I see it, you only keep saving us from yourselves. The Sith rise from within your own ranks, right? Without Jedi there could be no Sith. They breed from your own teachings. They are your counterweight. So as long as there are Jedi, there will be Sith, that's a fact. So how can you expect us to look at you as saviors when you bring upon us the very evil that you save us from? It's like throwing a man off a building and then catching him. You still threw him off the building."

She looked genuinely confused. "The Jedi are protectors of peace in the galaxy. We do more than just fight Sith when they arise. Besides, there've been no Sith in my lifetime, nearly twenty years. You act as though they're a constant evil tearing apart the galaxy."

"I'm sorry," Han bit back. "If I think tearing apart the galaxy only once in _anybody's_ lifetime is once too many."

During the five years he had spent on Shrike's slave ship, he had been too young to understand how he had lost his parents. But after the end of the Clone Wars, and his subsequent rescue, things had become clearer to him. At the onset of the Clone Wars, the President of Corellia had sided with the Republic and subsequently the Jedi. Much of Corellia was sympathetic to the Imperials and uprisings flared up throughout the three planets.

From what he could piece together, his parents had been tortured and murdered during one of those uprisings. His memories were horrifying but brief and mostly he had chosen to just forget. He knew that after that, he had been left alone on the streets to be snatched up by the likes of Garris Shrike and put into slave service as a pickpocket and a snitch. And in the end what had it all been for? Not for any real political reason. Not for any fight over rights or trade lanes or religious freedoms.

It had been about the Jedi and the Sith.

"So is it _genocide_ that you support?" The girl asked him. "The obliteration of the Jedi? I can tell you that it cannot be done. There are new Force sensitives born every day to non-Jedi parents. There will _always_ be Jedi. There is no ridding the universe of them."

Han may be many things, but he would never support genocide. He was a little disappointed at her train of thought. "I'm not talking about wiping you guys out," he answered. "I'm just saying, I don't see why we're expected to be so thankful to you for saving us from yourselves." He suddenly felt exhausted and spent. It wasn't like him to dwell on all these past memories or to speak so freely about his convictions. He much preferred to fly under the radar and touting off an angry diatribe to Anakin Skywalker's daughter would not qualify as flying under anything.

Leia opened her mouth to answer him but her friend, Winter, stood up abruptly interrupting any further discussion. She seemed surprised and relieved all at once as she looked across the room and breathed out, "Father." She then looked down at Han and Leia who were still staring at each other. "My father's here," she said.

Their conversation was over. The arrival of the Viceroy had seen to that. Han couldn't help but study the young Jedi for one more moment as the older man approached. Her eyes seemed still searching as if she had expected to find someone or something else on this visit. He couldn't make heads or tails of it. It was almost as if she had come specifically to speak with him. Well, he hoped she got what she came looking for. _And I hope she never comes back_.

After some very brief introductions followed by a few hurried farewells, they were gone.

Han ran his fingers through his hair and stared down at his plate of food. That had been the strangest two hours he had experienced in his life. _And I've led a pretty damned interesting life! _He picked his tray up and deposited it for cleanup on the way out as he headed back to the repair hangar and to his duties. He made a mental note to speak to Nikoli and the front desk admin to inquire about the unannounced visitors. But for now, it was time to get back to work.


	10. Chapter 10

It is Your Destiny…

_Corellia_

Walking back to their hotel, Winter felt warm and safe tucked underneath her father's arm. The finding of, and meeting with, Leia's husband-to-be had been more exhausting than either one of them had anticipated, she was sure. Leia was on the other side from her, similarly locked in a fatherly embrace. But if she was exhausted, her mouth hadn't realized it yet.

"…and well, he had very _strong_ opinions," Leia was saying about Commander Solo. The pair had been sharing their experiences of the day and Leia had just debriefed Bail on some of what the Commander had told her.

"I'm not surprised," Bail replied. "Corellia has been under several different political systems throughout his lifetime. I'm sure each of them had their faults, giving him a well-rounded, if not jaded, political view."

"Do you think Corellia will remain true to the Republic?" Winter asked.

"For a time," Bail sighed. "Corellians have always held a romanticized view of becoming an independent territory. And if your new acquaintance is any indication, it would seem the younger citizens of Corellia are remaining true to that old creed. From what you've told me, he sounded more like an independent than anything else. Which would fit the profile."

"He was certainly _independently_ against the Jedi," Leia scoffed.

Bail laughed and squeezed both girls to him. "I wouldn't worry about what that young man thinks, Leia. There are many like him in the universe and chances are you're paths will never cross with him again."

Leia and Winter both craned their necks around the man in between them, exchanging a knowing look, but remaining silent. Winter was sure that this was not the first time that Leia had met with anti-Jedi sentiment. With all the traveling that she had done with her father and brother, she was sure that Leia was well aware that there were 'many like him in the universe'. It was just _who_ this 'him' was that mattered so greatly. That made it so much more…disturbing or disheartening.

Winter wished she knew the right words to say. Of course she could remind her friend that the message had indicated that this Han Solo would be arrogant and self-centered. Although, that isn't exactly how she would describe the man they had met today. Regardless, Leia had been warned that it wouldn't be easy. And, well - not that either one of them had any firsthand knowledge of it - she thought that they both knew enough to know that love often wasn't very easy.

Still, they had really gotten wrapped up in it during these past four months. She realized that Leia had had other worries on her mind. Worries around the origins of the message and dangers it could present. Winter had those concerns, too. Maybe not about the Dark Side and Sith Lords, but Winter knew that tampering with time and having any kind of advanced knowledge concerning the future was a dangerous prospect for anyone – let alone a Jedi. But when they weren't expending their energy fretting over the fate of the universe, they had allowed themselves to be just two excited teenaged-girls. They had messaged each other and studied his holoimage with a furious intensity. Now she looked back on those days with a wistful grin.

Han Solo was no longer some fictitious figure that they could give their own voice and personality to. He was no longer a dream. He was real. And the reality, like it always seemed to be, was far less fun and frivolous to come to terms with. Of course, there were too many outside influences to count that could end up changing a person. She had to concede that fact. But as optimistic as Winter usually was, she had a hard time imagining what might transform this particular man into someone who would fall head-over-heels for Leia Skywalker.

It just didn't seem possible.

* * *

><p>Once in the privacy of their shared hotel suite, Leia flew into a furious tirade. "…an arrogant, egotistical, narrow-minded blowhard and I can't imagine <em>ever<em> finding any sort of common ground with him," she fumed.

Winter only smiled as Leia continued on. No matter what her thoughts had been earlier, she breathed not a word of them. As someone who had always been wise beyond her years and meticulously and lovingly trained by Bail and Breha Organa on the finer points of diplomacy, the young Alderaanian Princess held her tongue in check. Someone with her type of training, _and gift_, was more apt to realize how one word uttered at the wrong moment could travel centuries into the future to only wind up biting you later. So she let Leia vent and she nodded when appropriate and seemed appalled on cue, but said as little as possible.

Because one day these two people, her best friend and this strong-opinioned stranger, might very well be lovers. As implausible as it now seemed to both of them, if one were to judge by their first meeting. She still did not wish to offer any slanderous words about Han Solo, even if they were issued in commiseration with her friend. No, not when some time in the not-so-distant future, Leia's view of him would quite possibly change most dramatically. And without the audio graphic memory that Winter had, chances are the stubborn Jedi would only recall Winter's disparaging words concerning her would-be mate and, conveniently and completely, forget about her own.

A short while later, when Leia had finished her furious diatribe, the young Jedi fell solemnly quiet. Winter could tell that she was now thinking, having finished _talking_ about all that had happened and was now allowing herself to ponder upon it, to soak it in and marinate in it. She was sure that Leia was now perhaps thinking about what the young man had said to her – about his words. And about what he was supposed to someday be to her. And somehow she was trying to reconcile how the two of them might meet on some sort of common ground that still allowed them to hold their beliefs in check. Because that's what would have to happen – a shift in each of them that would allow them to meet in the middle.

Certainly she might be thinking that he would have to give up a lot of ground to see that day come to fruition. But certainly she must also know that she herself would have to give a little as well. And now she probably wondered what that might be. Or perhaps, knowing Leia, she more readily just dismissed the possibility altogether. Maybe she had decided that upon meeting him she could envision no possible future between them. Either way, Winter knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that for this man and for her friend, the wheels of fate, no matter what sort of sense of humor they seemed to have, had begun to turn.


	11. Chapter 11

It is Your Destiny…

_Republic Naval Academy, Coruscant – Three Years Later (0 ABY) _

"_How are finals?_"

"Fine," Leia answered her brother through gritted teeth. His voice was tinny and scratchy through the headset of her simulated X-wing. _Did they really have to simulate the static?_

"_That's not what I heard,"_ Luke replied, the teasing still evident through the distortion.

"Then why ask me?" She returned, relaxing for a millisecond as she twisted and juked out of her brother's flight path.

The Skywalker twins were utilizing the Republic Navy's training simulator. For them it had become their time to connect. Leia had been busy attending the University of Coruscant for the past three years, while Luke had joined the Navy. They had tried drinks at the pubs surrounding University Square or lunch at the military mess hall. But here is where they felt most comfortable. Maybe it was because their minds were so busy trying to stay alive that their thoughts flowed more freely. Or maybe it was because competition always seemed to bring out the best in both of them and while competing – no matter who ended up winning or losing – they always felt the most balanced…the most equal.

"_I heard,"_ Luke grunted while he yanked on his control yoke and narrowly missed a clip from his sister's missile. _"That you'll be valedictorian."_

Leia rolled her eyes, which almost cost her her Artoo unit. "Well," Leia replied, flipping through a barrel roll and doubling back to catch her brother in her sights. "The Republic Navy has horrible informants." She let loose a flurry of missiles that totally incapacitated her brother's X-wing.

"_Nice job,"_ Luke congratulated her. _"For a girl."_

"Yeah. A girl that just kicked your butt."

The pair began to power down their sim machines, removing their gloves, helmets and detaching the electrodes that were part of the simulation. "C'mon, Leia, 'fess up," Luke called across to her, his conform chair sitting just a few feet away. "Winter said you'd be at the top of your class no matter what happened during finals."

"I didn't say I wouldn't be at the top of my class," she answered evasively. Immersing herself in 'normal' college life had been something that she had lobbied for strongly. It was another step in the direction of finding a life outside of the Jedi Temple. She wanted to be a Jedi that was _something_, not just somebody who was a Jedi. But normal life hadn't come without its challenges. The anti-Jedi sentiment in the galaxy seemed to grow as time went on and it seemed the Senate wasn't the only place that sentients didn't trust the Jedi to walk among them.

It took a moment for Luke to understand what she was saying. That she had been at the top of her class but wouldn't be recognized for it. It didn't take him quite as long to figure out why. She could feel the sudden anger roll over him. His shook his head. "I can't believe it."

"It's no big deal," she replied, climbing out of her sim unit. She was dressed in a black bodysuit, styled more for lightsaber sparring than as a flight suit. But she had to make do with what she had. She couldn't fit in her brother's clothes anymore.

"How did they tell you? _Who_ told you?" Luke pressed as he exited his machine.

"They hinted around…said things." She shrugged. "I volunteered." It was the truth, but it had been like quitting before you were fired. Apparently when Jedi succeeded in the normal world, it could only be because they were using the Force.

"I knew it!" Luke spat angrily. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because it was the right thing to do. Because it would put an end to any needless speculation. It didn't matter to me anyway. I didn't go to college for a competition."

"You're right, it doesn't matter to you. Nothing matters to you. Did you ever think it might matter to someone else? Some youngling that may follow behind you? And instead of paving a path for them you just stood aside and took the easy way out?"

Leia, who had been hanging her helmet up on its rack, spun around on her brother. "The easy way out? Do you think what I did was the easy way out?" She asked, stepping toward him and poking him in the chest. "I _earned_ my place in that class," she spat. "No, it wasn't a competition, but I worked hard and _I_ _earned_ it. And walking away from something you've earned…" She dropped her hand. "That isn't easy," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Leia," Luke replied hoarsely.

She shook off his apology. "Hit the showers. Let's go get a bite."

Leia headed for the women's showers. She and Luke always practiced during off-hours and she was the only one in the large room. She decided to wash her shoulder-length hair, even though it would take longer and Luke would probably complain and tease her about becoming high-maintenance. Maybe living outside of the Jedi Temple and being surrounded by college co-eds had made her more feminine. She hardly ever wore her old Jedi robe anymore and she found that she enjoyed dressing nicely and that the college boys seemed to enjoy it, too.

But her reputation as a Jedi could not be as easily discarded as her robe had been. Most boys seemed frightened of actually getting close to her and she had gone on very few dates. The girls weren't any better. Everyone seemed to think that she could read their minds or control their actions. Perhaps this is why the Jedi Council worked so hard to keep the Jedi separated. This was yet another unhealed wound from the memories of the Clone Wars. Or maybe non-Force sensitives had been this way for millennia and maybe they would never change.

It was their father that encouraged both Luke and Leia to pursue interests outside of the Jedi Temple before they committed themselves fully to life in the Order. They weren't the only ones to do so, but they were of a very small minority. Leia knew her father still held a bitter taste in his mouth over what he had been forced to do, forced to give up, to marry their mother and have a family. Even though he had won the battle and changed the Jedi code, sometimes it seemed that he had lost the war. For as promising of a Jedi that he had always been touted to be, Leia knew that he had never been allowed to fully realize his potential.

That she and her brother were part of the reason that he had to sacrifice his dreams, always proved humbling to her. She carried his dreams along with hers now and she had always worked doubly hard to make her father proud of her. So much responsibility came with the name that he gave her, with the part that he had played in history when he had slain the Emperor – revealing him as the emerging new Dark Lord of the Sith. That was why stepping down as valedictorian hadn't really bothered her. She understood the stigma that she carried with her, in her genes and with the Skywalker name. Her family was no stranger to sacrifice.

Her anger with Luke's comment both surprised her and disappointed her, though. It was something that she constantly had to work on. Luke was so even-tempered and mild-mannered, maybe he had taken all of her share of those traits while they shared their mother's womb. It was not in her nature to take the easy way out of anything and she didn't feel like that was what she had done. It was important for her brother to know that. That was all. She just wanted him to know that. But of course, she knew he did.

As she rinsed the suds from her hair, she closed her eyes and tried not to think about how weary she felt. College graduation was looming just a few weeks ahead of her and she would have to plan her next move. She still held hopes of working in the political field. She and her father had been working on a proposition. Maybe she would never hold an office, be a senator or a queen, like her mother had been. But there were other ways to pursue her ambitions, there was always more than one way to realize your dreams. Her father had always told her that.

Leia dried her hair and dressed in a light summer sheath of a dress that hit her right above the knees. She pulled a long-sleeved sweater over it. It was always cold inside buildings and she was easily chilled. Lastly, she slid some sandals on her feet and stuffed her sweaty clothes into a small carryall.

When she exited the 'fresher, Luke was waiting patiently, his hair still damp and he was wearing casual street clothes. Her brother didn't breathe a word about how long she had taken to get ready or about how she looked. He just smiled at her, took her bag and led her silently out the building. Maybe he felt sorry for her, about the valedictorian thing. Leia despised being pitied. But she felt bad about earlier, so she let it slide.

* * *

><p>The twins stepped out of the Naval Academy building together. Summer had come early and the evening air was sticky and humid. Leia immediately shimmied out of her sweater and tied it around her waist.<p>

"Where to?" Luke asked, his mood bright and cheerful.

Winner chose and loser paid, that was their tradition. "Millie's?" She suggested. Of the two, Leia had the more adventurous appetite. Luke was a bantha burger and chubba chips kinda guy.

"Fine. Let's catch a hover cab, though. It's too hot to walk."

The pair began to descend the large stone steps as they made their way to the street. "The military has made you soft, Skywalker. Dad would tell you that he had to walk halfway around Tatooine wearing his heavy Jedi robes and carrying a bantha on his back and all without complaint."

"Yeah, and he would also-"

Luke stopped talking and Leia, who had been watching her footing, looked up to see what was wrong.

Two figures were ascending the steps several yards away. "It's Admiral Ackbar," Luke informed her. "He's been off-planet for a few months. I should go and say hi."

Leia shrugged her shoulder and followed behind Luke as he turned to intercept the Admiral. She had met the Mon Calamari officer before, yet it never ceased to amaze her at how intimidating he was in person. The figure walking alongside of him was half-obscured by the Admiral's large, salmon-colored head. And so it wasn't until Leia was practically standing in front of him that she recognized him. It was Han Solo.

"Admiral Ackbar, it's nice to have you back, sir," Luke said, his voice a little deeper than it was just a few moments ago.

"Lieutenant Skywalker, Jedi Skywalker, always a pleasure to see you both," the Admiral replied before gesturing to Han and saying, "Let me introduce you to the newest member of our team. This is Commander Solo. We snatched him up from the Corellian Navy."

Luke stuck out his hand, which Han accepted readily. "Welcome aboard, Commander. I look forward to working with you."

"Thank you. I reviewed all the prospective Rogue's files on the trip over. I'm impressed." Han replied.

Leia could tell that Luke wasn't exactly pleased with that response. But she was hardly in any position to worry about her brother's feelings at that moment because Commander Solo was turning to her and sticking his hand out.

"And Jedi Skywalker, we meet again."

Not, 'a pleasure to see you again', just, 'we meet again'. She took his hand and shook it firmly. "So it would seem," she replied, just as ambiguously.

"Don't keep your brother out too late this evening, Jedi Skywalker. He has early morning exercises," Ackbar gargled.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Leia replied.

With that the foursome said their goodbyes and Luke and Leia continued down the steps to the street. Luke stepped out and raised his hand, calling a hover car over their way. When he dropped his hand and stepped back toward his sister, he looked back up the steps of the Naval Building and asked, "Did you find something strange about that guy?"

Leia stared at him blankly. _Where should I begin?_


	12. Chapter 12

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

It wasn't as if she hadn't thought of him during the last three years. She just…never expected to see him again. She had dismissed the little droid's message as a hoax, or at the very least, a unfortunate circumstance. So this woman in the holo claimed to have loved that man. It didn't mean that she had to. He was obviously a different person this time around, as was she, if she had to venture.

She _had_ vowed that if they ever met again, however, she would not be caught so unawares. She would not let some farcical future tongue-tie her as she felt it had during their first meeting. No, he and his strong opinions would get a piece of her mind the next time around. Only, she never really thought that would ever happen. The galaxy was a big place, after all. Regardless, it wasn't as if she could've challenged him to a debate on the Naval Building's steps. It was better that their second meeting had been brief. It was also most unfortunate, she realized now, that she would probably have to see him again.

Although she would never admit it, that one conversation that they had shared had really affected her. He had made some valid points about her studies and she had made a concerted effort to make sure that she looked at things from all angles before drawing any conclusions. Whether he realized it or not, he had caused her to revisit many of her beliefs and reassess them with a more critical eye. She had been sixteen when she met him and many of her opinions were still those that had been passed down to her from her parents, especially her father.

In a way their meeting had been a turning point for her into adulthood.

"Leia? Are you sure that nothing's bothering you?"

Leia looked up and found both of her parents staring at her. They had come into town earlier than expected to attend her graduation. "No, it's nothing, Mom. I'm fine." Of course it had been much easier to convince herself that she had become an adult while her parents hadn't been around.

"Well, I don't know what they've been teaching you in college, but you actually have to put that food in your mouth to eat it," her father teased.

Leia smiled and moved her food around on her plate a little. She'd lost her appetite sometime late yesterday evening on the steps of the Naval Building.

"I was thinking, maybe you and I could have a girl's day? Get our hair and our nails done before your graduation," Padme offered.

"You know Leia has never been interested in that sort of thing," Anakin replied. "She'd probably rather accompany me to the Academy to see Luke's trials."

"No," Leia replied quickly. The last place in the galaxy she wanted to be was anywhere near the Naval Academy. _A grownup? Ha!_ "Actually, Father, I think spending the day the way Mom described sounds wonderful."

Padme smiled and reached across the table to squeeze Leia's hand. "I'll make all the arrangements."

"Okay, then. I guess I'll be off to check on Luke's progress on my own," Anakin said, disappointment evident in his tone. "If he really has his heart set on Rogue Squadron, he'll have to ace every drill."

Leia shrugged. "He'll make it into the Rogues," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Is that right, young lady? And what makes you so certain?" Anakin asked.

She lifted her chin. "Who do you think he's been practicing with?" There was no doubt about it, she still craved her father's recognition and approval. _Would that ever change?_

"Ah," he replied. "Don't act so smug. Luke's already told me how you've been training with him. To hear him say it, you'd be a shoe-in for the Rogues, as well." He shook his finger at her. "You'd do better to pick an ambition and stick to it."

"I wasn't exactly _training_," she recanted, disappointed at how easily her father's attention could flip from the positive to the negative. "I was just helping Luke. And I can't help it if it comes easily to me."

"I'm afraid far too many things come easily for you," her mother warned.

"Now, Padme. As long as Leia's _extracurricular_ activities keep her focused on her future and not on _boys_ and the Dark Side, then I don't see why we have anything to complain about." Her father winked at her conspiratorially.

"Speaking of _boys_, has anyone caught your eye, Leia?" Padme asked.

"I've dated," she answered evasively.

Her father cleared his throat. "I think this kind of talk would be best left for tomorrow. Although, now that I'm getting to see the beautiful young woman you've grown into, I wouldn't be surprised to find that you've left a trail of broken hearts behind you here on Coruscant."

Leia shook her head and shrugged. "No, no broken hearts, Dad."

"What is it, sweetheart?" Her mother asked with a warm smile.

"I don't know," she replied. Unfortunately, thoughts that had long lain dormant had been stirred up again just yesterday by Han Solo's reappearance. But that wasn't something she was willing to share. "It's all very silly, really. I'd much rather be flying a star ship or addressing the senate than wasting time with any of the boys I've had occasion to deal with. I'm positive that I could gather them all up in one room and they probably still couldn't put together a coherent thought between the lot of them." _Han 'sideways smirk' Solo included_.

With that her father wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him. "Ah, thank the maker for star ships and the congressional session, then. But, I must say, may the Force help the poor soul who finally does turn your head."

"Thanks a lot, Father."

"Anakin, that wasn't a very nice thing to say," Padme chided.

"Now, you both misjudge my words," Anakin said with an easy smile. "I wasn't speaking badly of Leia. I only meant that they would have to deal with _me_."

"Well, then. I may have to wish more than the Force for them in that case," Padme countered.

Her father gave her mother a look that Leia couldn't quite identify. "Speaking of congressional session, Leia," he turned to her and changed the subject. "Have you brought your case before the Jedi Council lately? You know if you don't constantly pursue this, then it will never be addressed."

"Master Kenobi-" Leia began before her mother interrupted.

"Anakin, I think the Jedi Council is well aware of Leia's wishes-"

"_Well aware_ and deliberating on them are two very different things, Padme…"

Leia watched her parents fall into verbal game of point and counterpoint and she felt awkwardly pitted in between them. Never did their words or demeanor take on any kind of vicious turn, but for some reason she could feel the underlying current threatening there. As if one false parry by either one would erupt into an all-out war.

Maybe this was the way they always acted around each other. It seemed odd not to know for sure. But after all, she and Luke had been at the Jedi Temple for over five years now, having left home barely teenagers. Certainly subtle nuances of her parents' relationship, such as these, could've gone wholly unnoticed through a child's eyes or via periodic conversations over the holocom and quick visits at holidays. _Or hidden from young children behind closed doors_.

In all honesty, Leia had never really given her parents' relationship all that much thought. They always appeared to be in love and they had remained together all of these years, she had just taken for granted that they were happy. It was the foundation of her childhood to believe that she came from a loving home. Why start now to question those unquestionable truths?

She watched them as they continued their animated discussion all about her as if she wasn't even there. All of a sudden she just wished that they would go back to Naboo. While they were there she didn't have to think about any of these things. When they weren't around her, she could still just imagine that they were happy. But she knew that wasn't right – that running away from anything wasn't right. And that this, sitting right across from her at the table - these two adults talking like two adults – that accepting them and their imperfections was yet another step in the journey of separating herself from the daughter of Anakin and Padme to the woman she was trying to become.

"Isn't that right, Leia?" Her father asked her. About what? She didn't know.

She shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. Her mother said something to answer for her and the discussion began again. Leia leaned back in her chair and watched them. It seemed the more she grew up the more she longed for the simple problems of youth.


	13. Chapter 13

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

Leia Skywalker wiggled her freshly polished toes and inspected her daintily manicured hands.

"Don't be frightened, Leia. Those things at the end of your arms are your very own hands and fingers, even if you don't recognize them."

"Very funny, Mother. I do remember _some_ of my childhood on Naboo, y'know. The dresses and the hairstyles."

"Ah, yes," her mother smiled. "The fond memories of youth."

"I said I remembered them. I don't recall mentioning what particular _emotion_ I associated with them. And _fond_ isn't exactly the first word that would come to mind."

The pair exchanged glances and giggled. They were both lounging on luxuriously appointed conformed divans. Their hair toweled around their heads absorbing a sweet smelling oil treatment. Their large private room was hazy with heavy, fraganced, humidified air and the sounds of unspoilt nature and rippling streams seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Their fit of laughter ended with two long, contented sighs. "I'm so glad you agreed to spend the day like this with me, sweetheart. I do so miss you."

It was about the millionth time that Padme had expressed the same sentiment, but Leia felt no need to pretend as if she didn't like hearing it every time. "I miss you too, Mother."

"I know it might sound strange, but it seemed so much easier to let you go when you were younger. I guess it was because in the end you were still mine. If anything happened to you or if a decision needed to be made, you would still come back to me." Padme's eyes shimmered with tears. "But now you've grown into a woman and now…"

"Mother!" Leia admonished reaching her hand across to grasp Padme's. "We're supposed to be having fun together. And I don't understand where all this is coming from. It's not as if I'm going anywhere."

Padme held her daugher's hand in hers tightly. "Oh, but you are. You have been going somewhere since the day you were born."

"Now you're sounding like one of the Masters. Have you been listening in on Dad's Force meditations?"

"No," she answered simply as she released Leia's hand. "It's the passing of time, of the proverbial torch. It happens to all of us, even when we think it never will."

Leia shook her head. "If you have any idea what torch has been passed on to me, I wish you would clue me in, because I have no idea what I should be doing with the rest of my life."

"I think you know more than you allow yourself to realize."

Leia shifted on her side to face her mother. "You're speaking in riddles, Mother. Is there something that you want me to know?"

Padme shook her head lightly. "No, that's all I wanted to tell you."

Leia rolled onto her back, resting her head against a pillow. She didn't believe her mother but she couldn't sense any duplicity in her words. She closed her eyes. "Is there something you _don't want_ to tell me?"

The room fell silent as Padme didn't answer her right away. When Leia opened her eyes and turned to her mother, she found her staring right back at her. "Do you trust me?" Her mother asked quietly.

"Of course I do," Leia answered. "Why?"

"Leia, if you're confused by anything. Anything at all. I just want you to know that I'm still here for you. No matter how old you get…or I get for that matter."

"This isn't about _the_ talk, is it?" Leia said with a smirk.

"You've always hidden behind your humor, young lady. I'm trying to be serious here."

Leia sobered. "I know you'll always be there for me, Mother." She lay back down. "And just so you know, they covered _the_ _talk_ at the Academy years ago."

"I seemed to recall that I fumbled through some version of it, as well. But, that's good to know."

Leia reached out for her mother's hand again. "Thank you. It never hurts to be reminded that you're not alone."

"You and your brother have always been what's most important to me and your father."

"We know that, don't worry."

As Leia released her mother's hand, she studied the older woman for a moment. Her mother was beautiful. In fact, she found her to be the most beautiful woman she had ever met, inside and out. As much as Leia had strived to live up to her father's expectations, it was her mother that she truly wished to emulate. The things that came easy to her, like lightsaber training and flying a ship, those things made her father happy. But it was the intangible assets of her mother that she secretly - and sometimes not-so-secretly - struggled with. Her mother's grace and patience, and her diplomatic air, her inner strength and they way she carried it – her subtlety and poise.

"Mom," Leia whispered.

Padme turned to face her and Leia saw the familiar dark eyes, like a mirror, reflecting back at her. "Yes?" She replied.

"Are you and Dad…alright?"

Her mother chuckled a little and closed her eyes for a moment. "Your father and I," she began. "Are…finding each other again." After a deep breath, Padme opened her eyes, finding Leia's and said, "It's no small task to spend most of your life knowing that the fate of the galaxy rests on your shoulders, you must know a little of what that's like."

Leia nodded, carrying the Skywalker name had been both an honor and a curse. A blessing and a burden.

"Your father struggles with it everyday. Always dissecting every choice, every decision to make sure it's the right one. It's always been that way, but I have to tell you that ever since you and Luke were born, he's been even more...careful. I think shaping the future wasn't as scary to him until it became his_ children's_ future. And the older the two of you get, the closer he is to seeing that future come to fruition. Do you understand?"

Leia nodded once again, but didn't respond as she considered her mother's words.

"Your grandmother's death…was hard on him," Padme continued. "And the years that he was away with you and your brother were hard on me. And now we're back together and you and Luke are gone and...well, it's an entirely different dynamic."

Leia's gaze fell to the floor. Shmi Skywalker, her paternal grandmother, had been killed on Naboo during an attempt on Padme's life. No one ever found out for sure why the madman had attacked her mother but it was believed to be another case of anti-Jedi violence as her mother had been pregnant at the time and was caused to miscarry. Their father had been on Coruscant at the time, visiting with Luke and Leia. She would never forget the look in her father's eyes when he received the news. It was the longest trip back home that she had ever experienced. Hyperspace travel had never seemed so slow.

That had been over four years ago.

"I've always felt guilty for her death. For…," Padme whispered.

Leia looked up, shook her head. "You musn't."

"We all know what _we mustn't_," Padme answered lightly and then looking away she said, almost wistfully, "But that doesn't mean we don't."

"I know Father doesn't blame you. If that's what you think," Leia said.

Leia watched her mother for a moment. She wondered what the woman was thinking, what things had been said between her and her father that could've possibly helped to heal those wounds. Her worries from the previous day painfully resurfacing. "For awhile Luke and I felt guilty. That if he hadn't been with us, then he would've been there and it wouldn't have happened. But we've all meditated on it. Father let go of…," she hesitated. "He came to terms with his grief."

Padme shook her head as if dismissing the conversation. She wiped her eyes and said, "I'm sorry…for this. I'm sorry I turned our fun day so solemn."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Leia argued. "I'm glad we're talking like this. I _missed_ this… a lot."

"I missed this, too. You're everything I've ever wanted in a daughter." She paused. "And that's it," she then proclaimed sternly, holding her hands up. "No more mushiness for the rest of the day. I promise."

Leia smiled."Okay, that's a deal."


	14. Chapter 14

It is Your Destiny…

_The Jedi Temple – Coruscant (Two Months Later)_

Leia Skywalker walked along the streets of Coruscant toward the Jedi Temple. With her graduation from the Galactic University behind her, her sights were now set firmly on the future. As part of her years away from the Order, Leia had been charged with finding a place for herself in the universe. Three years ago the task seemed exciting, a welcomed challenge. Now, it was more than a tad bit daunting, no longer an exercise in academics, she would see if her vision could become reality.

All rational wisdom would suggest that every sentient being brought into the universe had a place and a destiny to fulfill. Some would argue, along that same line of thinking, that significant and insignificant choices made along the way would only serve to hasten or delay that sentient being along their destined course. Her brother Luke would most probably readily agree with those arguments. It was easy to talk about destiny and purpose when you seemed to have been born to fill some proverbial pair of shoes.

It was not so easy when you rarely felt comfortable in your own skin.

Luke Skywalker, destined Jedi Master, had probably never lain in bed at night with eyes that refused to shut because he had no idea where he should go or what he should do with the rest of his life, much less the next day of his life. Luke had probably never looked around a room full of people and felt that no one understood him or saw him for who he wanted to be seen as. Her brother couldn't know what it felt like to only be defined by what you didn't want to be. She sincerely hoped that he would never know what it felt like to be crushed by the heavy weight of disappointment that seemed to ooze from everyone around him.

Leia closed her eyes and shook off those thoughts. It was probably true that many of the pressures she felt bearing down on her came more from within than from any outside sources. Her parents were patient, accepting and encouraging in her endeavors. Her brother was her biggest supporter. And the Jedi Council, although steeped in their old ways, was always willing to at least listen to new ideas.

Maybe all she had to do was have faith in her own ambitions. Yet, that was so much easier said than done.

That message from her future self had not helped any of these matters. She wished that mysterious message from the future had contained the key to her happiness. At least something other than Han Solo. Wouldn't she have to find herself before she could find love? Not a day went by when she didn't wonder who she had become in that other life and how the wisdom that she had recognized in the eyes of her future self had been earned. It almost felt as if her _true_ destiny had been stolen from her and she had been forced to relive this life in an alternate universe where she didn't really belong and perhaps never would.

Leia reached the large stone steps that led to the Jedi Temple and turned to walk up them. The entrance to the temple was set back, away from the busy streets of the Galactic Capital. Large statues flanked the fountains, ponds and seating areas that one had to pass along the way to the large open-air entryway. The apron to the temple was usually always bustling with activity. Jedi Knights, Masters and Padawans wandered about, talking, training or meditating.

She had walked this path what seemed like a million times before. But today it felt different. After all of her hard work, meditation and contemplation, she would find out today if she could carve a place in this universe that might suit her. She knew that it was those, like her, that didn't fit into the confines of what was expected and accepted that broke the molds, shaped the future and made history.

It was often said, about the Skywalker twins, that things came easier to Leia than to her twin brother, Luke. It may have been true that Luke had to work harder at his studies, his flying or his lightsaber lessons. But Leia had to work harder at life.

* * *

><p>"Jedi Skywalker," Master Windu began. "You've petitioned to appear before this Council. You have the floor."<p>

Half of Leia's concentration was focused on her shaky knees. She stood in the middle of a semicircle of Jedi Masters, all eyes trained on her. Each one rested on a soft, cushioned floating dais and the skyscape of Coruscant stretched endlessly out behind them beyond the transparisteel viewports.

Every room, corridor and viewport in the Temple had a purpose, a reason that it was designed the way it was. Leia knew that. So she was not surprised when she felt nervous, standing in the center of attention of all the Masters. That was as it was meant to be. And when the Masters appeared calm, informal and comfortable on their floating daises, she knew that it was supposed to set her somewhat at ease. And when, in the distance, she saw the city of Coruscant with its vast populace and far-reaching metropolis and it served as a reminder of the bigger picture; causing her to think beyond herself, this council and her own fears and desires, she knew it was all part of the plan.

With her thoughts coalesced on the moment, she drew in a breath to speak. "I have graduated from University. It is my wish to discuss my intentions with this Council on where my efforts and talents would best be spent now."

"Within the political arena, your aspirations still lie," Master Yoda observed.

Her eyes shifted to Master Yoda. "Yes, Master. That has not changed."

"You were assigned a task at our last meeting, when you left for your university studies. Have you completed that assignment?" Master Windu inquired.

She drew her attention back to the Council as a whole. "I have."

"You were to meditate on the possibility of fulfilling your aspirations while still serving all peoples of the galaxy and remaining true to the ways of the Jedi," Master Ki-Adi-Mundi reminded her.

"And I have done that." She drew in a breath and slowly released it. "I have studied the past. I am well aware of the reasons for your trepidations. For the trepidations of the entire galaxy. But the symbiotic relationship between the Galactic Government and the Jedi, although all may try to repudiate it, is a necessary and valuable bond. Over the years, in response to growing negativity toward the Jedi, we have forfeited much of our influence and participation in this cooperative. This has been a mistake. A mistake that if allowed to continue could prove fatal to our future."

"Waste no more of our time with your arguments, you will not. Your conclusions, you can tell us now," Master Yoda replied.

"I think the Jedi should be represented in the Senate. Just as any other race or species is."

The words were out. For better or worse they no longer belonged to her, but to the greater universe. No matter what happened now, the wheels had been set in motion and she had no choice but to move forward. A calmness settled over her.

"Senators represent _worlds_, not species. And we have no world of our own. The galaxy is our home," Master Kolar asserted.

"A Jedi Senator would be accused of mind-bending the first vote that he or she participated in," Master Fisto added.

"This idea reeks of the too-raw memories of Chancellor Palpatine. It would only serve to open barely healed wounds," Master Tiin argued.

Leia stood as the barrage of opinions continued and the Masters began to argue amongst each other as if she were not there. The growing sense of calmness continued to permeate her. Verbal altercations were less scary than the eerie silence that had at first welcomed her in this room. Not even the heightened sense of displeasure and resentment that had begun to flow through the room truly bothered her.

Many beings viewed the Jedi as always at peace and above the petty emotions that plagued lesser beings. But the truth was that Jedi were the _protectors_ of peace and although they worked hard at portraying the serenity and harmony which they wished all beings to emulate, it _was_ work. And, among themselves especially, the Jedi – even the Masters - were prone to disagreements, grudges and political maneuvering just as any other peoples.

Funny, Leia thought as the tensions continued to rise in the room, how _this_ is where she felt right at home.

"Something tells me that our young charge has thought of all of these arguments already," Master Poof interjected softly.

All eyes turned back to Leia and she took another deep breath.

"Thought of these things, have you?" Asked Master Yoda.

"I have. And if you'll forgive me, I said that I thought the Jedi should have a _representative_ in the Senate, not a Jedi Senator."

Master Kenobi leaned forward. "A representative in what capacity?"

"As a participant, a voice during sessions. We would hold no vote. A Jedi _Adjunct_, if you will."

"No vote?" Kenobi repeated absently as he stroked his beard and sat back in his chair.

"This is unheard of. We can't just _dream up_ positions for ourselves in the Senate," Master Koth stated.

"If we don't _dream up_ positions to fit the Jedi, who will? Who better to find a way for us to fit in, than ourselves?" Leia replied.

The room fell silent.

Leia waited patiently as all seemed engrossed in their thoughts. And then she spoke softly into the silence. "Perhaps it's time for a new way of thinking. Isn't it the definition of insanity to keep trying the same thing but expecting different results?" Still no one spoke, so she continued, "We are to be the _eyes_ of the galaxy, yet we are blind to the inner workings of the galactic government. We are to _hear_ the cries of all peoples, yet we are deaf to the voices of their elected representatives. We are the _heart_ of the galaxy, yet we cannot keep a finger on its pulse."

Master Windu held his hand up to stop her. "I think you've made your point, Jedi Skywalker."

"Doesn't the word _adjunct_ imply a _lesser_ status?" Master Billaba questioned. "Is that how you wish to present the Order of the Jedi to the universe? How _we_ wish to?"

"Are you opposed to the _idea_ or the semantics of it?" Leia returned. "Besides, are we not servants to all sentients? Would it be a mistake to appear…_humble_?"

"Not just _appear_, but _be_ humble, Jedi Skywalker," Master Kenobi corrected with a smile.

Leia bowed her head in concession. "Of course."

The silence once again swept over the room. This time it was Master Windu who spoke first. "You have given us a great deal to consider, Jedi Skywalker. I assume you have a full report on this _Jedi Adjunct_ position that you have recommended?"

"I do."

"Please, send a copy to all of our datafiles and we will review it. You will hear from us when we have concluded our discussion on the matter and come to an agreement on our path forward. You understand that we are only the first step in this process. Should we consider your proposal, the position would have to be presented to the Senate and approved by the Chief of State."

"I understand. Thank you, Master Windu," Leia replied. And then bowing once more, she said, "Thank you, Masters."


	15. Chapter 15

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant_

After attending to several other matters, the High Council was dismissed and the Masters began to flow slowly out of the room. Master Yoda remained perched on his floating dais. After nearly a millennium of living, even the smallest tasks could prove daunting to the elder Jedi. The recycled air of Coruscant did no favors to his worn joints and dry skin and his three-pronged feet ached for the soft, marsh grasses of his childhood home. It seemed as if lately, the memories of those chittering swamp insects and the smell of moss-covered trees was clinging to his mind like perspiration to the skin on a humid day. Closing his eyes, he understood what that meant.

He was being called home.

"Are you alright, Master Yoda?"

Yoda opened his eyes and found his long-time friend, Obi Wan Kenobi, eyeing him curiously. "Some mental preparation, the walk back to my quarters requires," he answered truthfully.

Kenobi smiled, but it held a touch of sadness. "And yet you still refuse the use of a hoverchair," he chided.

"In a hoverchair I will ride when the hookah pipe you give up."

"Flavored air? It's harmless and one of the few enjoyments I have left in my old age."

"For me, as is walking," Yoda retorted.

Kenobi raised his hands in surrender. "As you wish."

"To speak to me I think is your wish, hmmmm?" Yoda pried. He had known Kenobi long enough to tell when something was on his mind. "About the young Skywalker girl, your concerns lie."

"Your powers of deduction have never ceased to amaze me," Kenobi replied and then taking a quick glance around the room, he said, "Perhaps I can accompany you on your walk?"

The pair of Masters walked along in silence, the clicking of Yoda's crooked cane and long toenails against the marbled floors the only sound marking their slow progress. Kenobi towered next to him, taking several small, slow steps to keep pace with him. They turned toward the arching entryway and headed outside. When they reached one of the several meditation areas, Yoda stepped off of the stoned pavers and curled his toes into the muddied soil of the pond bank.

Kenobi took a seat on the low, curved bench and rested his arms on his knees to bring his face closer to Yoda's height. "I feel the time of the nexus is drawing near."

Yoda let the cool dampness of wet soil creep into his joints. "On this matter, so sure are you? Many years ahead it looms for me."

"Leia Skywalker's appearance at the Council today," Kenobi began, sitting up a little and stroking his white beard. "It was…familiar. It felt like a harbinger to the events that we have foreseen."

Yoda hobbled closer to the edge of the water, his toenails creating little puddles along the way. Over twenty years earlier, Luke Skywalker had appeared to Yoda while he was on the planet of Kashyyyk, working alongside the Wookiees. At the same time, unbeknownst to each other, Leia Skywalker had appeared to Obi Wan Kenobi. The twins had shared an identical tale. It would be years before the two Jedi Masters finally confided in each other. In the beginning they had worked separately, now they worked together – to fix the past of their futuristic visitors and change the future.

Kenobi's assertion saddened the wise, old Jedi. For Yoda, too had seen Leia's appearance before the council as an omen. But not for the coming of the nexus.

"Indeed a sign the young girl's visit was," Yoda agreed.

Kenobi leaned forward again. "So we are almost upon the point in time when the portal was opened. We are very close to fulfilling the prophecy."

Yoda shook his head. In order for the two young Jedi to return in time, a portal had been opened. That could not have been done without the cooperation of both a Jedi, usually a Master, and a Sith Lord. In the absence of a Master, the Skywalker twins had combined their powers to open up the portal using Light Side energies. The Dark Side cooperation came from their father, Anakin Skywalker, who had fallen under Kenobi's tutelage.

In his final moments, Anakin Skywalker had embraced the light side of the Force, but in his fall to the dark side he had tainted the destiny of the Chosen One and left the Force unbalanced upon his death. In the afterlife, he returned once more to the dark side so that his children could go back in time and alter that failure.

The Skywalker twins had entrusted Obi Wan and Yoda to see their father back to the nexus, or the point in time in which the portal was opened, without falling to the dark side. If the Chosen One made it back to the nexus as a Jedi, balance in the Force would be achieved and all dark side energy would cease to exist, putting an end to the Sith.

"An end is what you see," Yoda finally replied. "But the nexus, it is not." Yoda felt a sadness momentarily overtake him. He understood all too well what Obi Wan was sensing, because he sensed it himself. The two Masters were nearing their end.

"Then we are destined to fail," Kenobi breathed out.

"So sure are you? Give up already you have? Hmmm? The changes we have made, forget all of them do you?"

Yoda himself often found it hard to remember all that the two of them had changed over the past two decades. Starting with the abolition of slavery, to the Outbound Flight project and the successful annihilation of the Far Outsiders that Luke and Leia had called the "Vong". To things such as changing the Jedi code, making peace with the Empire of the Hand, destroying the secret weapon installation in the Maw and the burgeoning Emperor's secret cache on Wayland. And finally, the genetic research and re-engineering of the wild inhabitants of Myrkyr and the land reclamation project that was successful on the planet Honoghr.

Yet, there were still things left undone.

"There is still the matter of the Sith World," Kenobi stated grimly.

A secret planet full of Sith had been foretold by the twins. The Jedi had been unable to locate it and in the end, Yoda and Kenobi had decided that if the prophecy could be fulfilled, and dark side energy abolished, its existence would be a moot point.

"Unable to travel through space, the twins said the Sith were. All that we could, we have done."

"Anakin still struggles with the dark side. His desire to be on the High Council still clouds his judgment. And Shmi's death. Although delayed, still had a devastating effect on him."

"Destiny it was for Anakin Skywalker to bury his mother. Too dangerous it was for him to serve on the High Council. Warned we were of what he was capable of doing…_becoming_. Second guessing our decisions now too easy, too tempting it is."

"Maybe it's time we told him."

"No," Yoda snapped. "To tell him, the time has passed. _Betrayed_, _manipulated_, it would make him feel to tell him now."

"I'm afraid he already feels that way," Kenobi confessed, rubbing his beard. "What about Luke? Or Leia? They're the ones that traveled back to warn us. Perhaps they are old enough to know now."

"So scared of dying, are you?" Yoda asked, studying his friend. "At peace I am with my destiny. The _only_ destiny I have to make peace with, it is."

"Yes, of course, you're right," Kenobi agreed, calming himself. "Although not perfect, it does seem that all of the possible changes have taken place." He pressed his hands on his knees and looked around for a moment. "The Sith world and low public opinion of the Jedi seems to be the only thing that we could not prevent."

"If dark side powers are extinguished, the Sith World a problem it will not be. Opinions of the Jedi? Hope for that in Leia Skywalker there is. Impossible to weave a _perfect_ future, hmmm? To do that was not our purpose."

"Yes, perhaps," Kenobi sighed in defeat.

"This unrest you will not let go, hmmm? Always more than one way to skin the Manka Cat, there is," Yoda said, poking Kenobi's leg with his gnarled cane.

"And what would that be?" Kenobi asked.

"To the Jedi Order you will speak. _Warn_ them of the dark side temptation, you must. To prevent the Chosen One from falling, all must be vigilant." Yoda struggled to step back up onto the stoned pavers. "To tell the Skywalkers you wanted. To tell _everyone_ is what you will do."

Kenobi smiled, obviously relieved. "As always, you have found the simple solution."

"When nine-hundred years old you are, all the answers you will have," Yoda said with a chuckle. Then turning serious, he said, "To witness their father's fate, _face_ that future, it is the Skywalker twins' destiny."

"Yes," Kenobi answered forcefully. "That would seem to remain the same."


	16. Chapter 16

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant (Several Weeks Later) _

"…meetings are being held by our contingents across the galaxy. All the Masters have been alerted…"

Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi addressed the crowded auditorium in the Jedi Temple. Leia Skywalker sat in the front row with her brother and her father. It wasn't very often that her father attended assemblies. His usual practice was to take them via comlink while traveling or from their home world of Naboo. But the High Council had called everyone that was able to travel to Coruscant to hear the announcement together.

"…announcement as this very seriously and would not gather you here unless we felt the matter was of utmost…"

Assemblies themselves were not all that uncommon. When she and Luke had been studying at the temple, the Knights and Apprentices would be called together regularly to discuss current events and recognize one another for outstanding achievements. Assignments would also be announced and accepted – Leia had wished many farewells in this very room. Some had been to friends that she would never see again.

"…a ripple of disturbance…"

But this assembly was different. Not only because of the fact that the Masters had called everyone in, but it just _felt_ different. It felt as if Master Kenobi was speaking directly to her. Of course she knew that a Jedi could do that while speaking to a large audience – make each participant feel as if the message was directed right at them. Even with that knowledge, she could not shake the feeling that the assembly had been called for her benefit alone.

"…two decades of peace, it would seem that the darkness has once again begun to rise..."

The room erupted into nervous whisperings and Leia exchanged a worried glance with her brother. Master Kenobi had paused, allowing for the brief conversation as everyone absorbed what his words meant.

The Sith were back.

The Sith were a constant in the life of a Jedi. As much as it still pained her to say, Han Solo had been totally right about that. If the Jedi weren't fighting the Sith, they were waiting for them to rise. Her father had ended the last uprising of the Sith when he had resisted the attempt by Emperor Palpatine to recruit him as his apprentice, slaying the Dark Lord and saving Master Windu's life. Her father's action had allowed her and Luke to grow up in a relatively peaceful universe, never knowing the destruction and chaos that inevitably came from the rise of the dark side.

That had been almost two decades ago. It seemed the appearance of the Sith was most probably long overdue. Yet, the news still came as a shock; that was evidenced by the ripple of surprise and fear that had followed Master Kenobi's words. There had been the hope that perhaps this time the Sith would not rise again.

Maybe that belief had been in part due to her father.

No one talked about it much anymore, but there was a time when some of the Masters believed that he was the Chosen One, the one that would bring peace and balance to the Force. When he had slain the Emperor, some thought that the universe might've seen the last of the dark side. Its continued absence over these past twenty years seemed to confirm that. Until now.

"Attention everyone, please," Obi-Wan Kenobi attempted to call the auditorium back to order. "The sooner we finish the announcement, the sooner you will be free to discuss and meditate on this information yourselves."

The conversations throughout the room began to subside until only a dull murmur persisted. Leia's father took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. She looked up into his eyes. He had her brother's eyes, or vice versa. Either way, she always found comfort in their warm azure. On Naboo the sky was blue like her father's eyes and the birds flew there on a summer wind and all was beautiful and safe.

"…This is a dangerous time for all of us. The dark side energies that are forming are raw and unbalanced. It will be looking for support to strengthen its power and ensure its rise. You must remember your teachings. Greed, power, lust, envy…these are all disciples of the dark side," Master Kenobi warned.

"It is a perhaps fitting that Anakin Skywalker is here among us today," Master Windu added.

Leia felt her father's muscles tense against her hand before he slowly took it away. He did not like to be called attention to. She understood his apprehension. Leia had lived her life in the shadow of an enigma. To some her father was larger-than-life, a hero of the galaxy, to other's…he was not. She had always tried to view him as the loving father that he had always been to her, but she had to admit that she had never truly understood him.

He could be all at once demanding and distant and then overly forgiving and kind. She recalled a span of time when she would've done anything to avoid a visit from him and then there were times she would place a holocall to him in the middle of the night just because she couldn't sleep without his reassurance and advice.

Mace Windu continued, "It has been twenty years since we have fought against the rise of the Sith. Many of you in this room have never known a galaxy overrun by their devastation. Let there be no doubt in anyone's minds, we will face difficult times ahead. But let Anakin's victory be a reminder to us all. The Sith can be resisted. The Sith can be destroyed."

The meeting continued. The Masters described the disturbances in the Force that foretold of the stirring dark side energies. Everyone was warned to remain on guard but not to abandon their common sense and training. It would do the Jedi no good if everyone started to turn against one another. And with a few more parting words, Master Kenobi drew the meeting to a close.

"Come with me," Leia's father said, his words were clipped as he rose and began to head toward Obi Wan.

Leia stole a glance toward Luke who only shrugged his shoulders in question.

Although Obi Wan had been surrounded by curious Jedi, the crowd parted as the Skywalker family moved forward and very quickly, it was just the three of them and Master Kenobi.

"Do you care to describe these sensations that you have felt in the Force, Master Kenobi?" Anakin Skywalker asked without preamble.

Obi Wan did not seem offended by her father's brusqueness as he clasped his hands together and replied, "How are these things to be described, Anakin? We all sense them in our own way. You know that."

It never ceased to amaze Leia the way that Obi Wan spoke to her father as if he were still his young Padawan. Even more surprising was how her father seemed to tolerate it…to a degree.

"I also know that you can't describe something that isn't real," Anakin retorted.

"Are you accusing me of making this up?" The tinge of amusement that had been on Kenobi's lips vanished. "Anakin, with all of our differences over the years, I would still hope that you think better of me than that."

"I have no doubt that whatever you are trying to accomplish, you believe it is for the best."

Leia watched the conversation, mesmerized. The more she studied Master Kenobi, the more she knew that her father was right. Obi Wan spared a glance her way and she quickly averted her eyes. _What exactly is he trying to accomplish? _Suddenly those thoughts from earlier, where she had felt singled out by his message, seemed not so farfetched.

Obi Wan put his hand on her father's shoulder, turned him to take him under his arm and began to lead him toward the exit doors. "Anakin, it was…a stirring. I only wish to put everyone on guard to the temptation of the dark side. That is something that a Jedi should always remain vigilant against."

"I understand, Master," Anakin replied, strained patience laced in his words. "But why the mandatory assembly? What reason is behind the elaborate show? _If_ this were only to reinforce Jedi teachings. Do you doubt the work of your Masters?"

They had exited the assembly hall and were walking slowly through the cavernous atrium of the Jedi Temple toward the arched entryway on the far wall.

Master Kenobi stopped walking and Anakin, Luke and Leia followed suit as they turned to look at him. Obi Wan looked at Luke and Leia for a moment and then turned his focus onto their father. "Anakin, it's just this kind of distrust of the Council that worries me."

"Tell me the truth, Master. Was this entire charade put on for my benefit? Tell me I'm wrong for feeling that way," Anakin replied.

Leia pressed her lips together. So her father had felt the same way. She looked at Luke, wondered if he had felt it, too. Luke's eyes were on Obi Wan, focused and hard.

"You're the Chosen One, Anakin," Kenobi said simply. "Anything relevant to the fate of the Jedi starts and ends with you."

"You didn't answer my question," Anakin replied but then shuffled uncomfortably on his feet as he added, "I have already stood up to that test once."

"Indeed you have. But how many times are you prepared to answer that call? Palpatine was a long time ago, Anakin. You cannot rely on past success. Are you at peace with the Force _now_? Will you be able to pass that test again? And again? For as many times as necessary? For your children? And your children's children?"

Her father looked down towards her as if just realizing that she and Luke were still there. He turned back to Obi Wan. "Even more so, because of them," he answered, indicating Luke and Leia.

"Good, Anakin," Obi Wan said with a smile as he cupped her father's shoulder in his hand again. "That's all that I can ask for."

* * *

><p>She and Luke walked their father to the small spaceport adjacent to the Jedi Temple. Although silent on the walk over, as he stood at the edge of the boarding ramp to his ship, Anakin Skywalker finally spoke to his children, "No matter what I said to Master Kenobi, no matter what I feel about the origins of his message. The message is still a good and valid one. I was tempted by the dark side. I don't like to think about how close I came…" He shook his head. Leia couldn't recall ever seeing him let his emotions get so raw.<p>

"Don't worry about us, Father," Luke said. "Leia and I will keep an eye on each other."

He smiled. "I know you will. You're lucky to have each other. As I'm lucky to have had Obi Wan as my Master and friend. Please don't take our disagreements to mean anything more than they are. It is not disrespectful to disagree...," he started, raising his eyebrows to prompt his two young pupils.

"But it is to _disobey_ and ignore," Leia finished.

"That's right," Anakin replied, his smile widened with pride. "Always challenge, question, trust in your instincts. Questions left unvoiced…"

"Will never be answered," Luke finished this time, earning a proud smile of his own.

Anakin stepped forward and brought both of his children into a tight embrace. "I questioned Obi Wan's motives for his meeting today," he whispered into their ears. "But I do not question the relevance of his warnings. The dark side is a constant threat, no matter how long it has lain dormant."

He pulled away and studied them for a moment.

"Give Mother our love," Leia said.

"I certainly will. But a visit or a comcall certainly wouldn't kill either one of you," he teased.

He turned and walked up the ramp onto his cruiser. Luke and Leia took several steps back, but remained on the tarmac to watch their father's ship liftoff. They stood watching the large Corellian Corvette shrink off into the distance and even after they couldn't see it anymore, they stood in silence for a little while longer.

"You're to be shadowing Bail and Winter this term, correct? Until you hear back from the Council?" Luke finally spoke.

"Yes, but I was thinking I should speak to the Masters, in light of the announcement today, about where I could serve them best," she replied, sure that Luke was thinking along the same lines. Whatever the reason was that the Masters had called that assembly today, maybe it was time for she and Luke to rededicate themselves to the Order and put off their personal pursuits for a while.

Luke nodded but said nothing for a long time. She wondered if Luke had felt as she did about the message, as her father apparently had. As if it were meant for them, more than any other, to heed.

"I'd like you to come by the Academy tomorrow evening and practice with me, if you could," he finally said matter-of-factly.

Leia was momentarily taken aback by his request. They hadn't practiced together in months. She had avoided the Academy ever since she had run into Han Solo out on the front steps. Of course, Luke would have no idea that that was the reason why. But still, hadn't he just heard and seen what she did? "Sure," she began, "But Luke, don't you think we should talk about-"

"Just be there, Leia," Luke interrupted impatiently and turned his body as if to walk away. "Okay?" He asked softly over his shoulder.

It was often that she had seen her brother speak to her that way. But any argument that would usually spring from it wouldn't come. Leia sighed. "Alright, I'll be there."


	17. Chapter 17

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

Leia wore her Jedi robes to meet Luke at the Academy. Perhaps training on the sim unit was just what she needed to organize her thoughts around what had happened during and after the assembly. After all, this was where she and Luke would often open up to each other the most.

Climbing the stone steps of the Naval building, she realized just how much she had been missing this aspect of her life. She knew why she had stopped coming – the sudden appearance of Han Solo - but suddenly she found it interesting that Luke hadn't been pressing the issue or inviting her. _Does he know?_ It seemed impossible. The only person who could've told him was Winter and she would never betray Leia's trust.

As she walked into the large double doors she saw that Luke was waiting for her in the atrium. She walked slowly towards him, reaching out in the Force to sense her brother's mood. He was nervous but mostly excited. There was some underlying essence that she couldn't quite put a finger on.

"Thanks for coming," Luke said, his tone very formal.

"What's wrong?" She had never held her tongue wherever her brother had been involved, she didn't feel compelled to start now.

"Nothing's wrong," he replied and she believed him.

"Then what's right?" She volleyed back, a hint of mischief playing in her eyes.

Luke's demeanor relaxed and he smiled at her. "We can't hide anything from each other, can we?"

"Speak for yourself," she returned. "I've been secretly dancing for credits on the weekends. I'll have enough to retire soon." The twins laughed, but deep down Leia felt just the slightest bit guilty knowing that she had hidden something from Luke for over three years now - a really big something at that.

"Somehow I can't imagine – _not that I'd want to_," Luke clarified. "But I can't imagine you dancing for credits. _Boxing?_ Maybe. Flying? Sure. _Arguing?_ Definitely."

"Alright. Alright. That's enough. It was just a joke."

"So, anyway," Luke started, obviously stalling as he searched for the right words.

"Yeah, so anyway," Leia prompted him.

"There is something," he began. "Something that's been up for a few months now. I really haven't been at liberty to tell you anything and there wasn't much to tell at first. But after that announcement yesterday…" Luke looked around the empty atrium. "Maybe we should head to the practice facility..."

* * *

><p>"So, that's it," Luke concluded once they had reached the entrance of the sim unit.<p>

"_That's it?"_ Leia replied. "Luke, you've never been one for subtlety but that's by far one of the biggest understatements I've ever heard you utter. Total stealth technology? Do you know what that would mean?"

"I know exactly what it means," he answered her. "But that's not all. There's a byproduct that they hadn't counted on."

"A byproduct? What're you talking about?"

"I'm talking about us. Or at least me and anybody else I can recruit from the Academy."

"Jedi? Why?"

"They've perfected the stealth technology but they can't overcome the comm wave interference. These X-wings can only be flown in total radio silence."

Luke went to open the door and Leia stopped him. She whispered, "Are you talking about resurrecting the Jedi battle melds?"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about and that's exactly why I wanted you to come and fly with me tonight."

Leia looked away from her brother and down the hallway. The Jedi battle meld was stuff of legend for the Jedi of her age. It had been used prevalently during the Clone Wars by the likes of her father and Ben Kenobi, but when the Jedi were the only ones walking away from the battles, the non-Force users began to take notice and not in a very good way. It single-handedly aided the rise of the anti-Jedi sentiment throughout the galaxy, especially among the ranks of military services. There had also been repercussions by the Jedi who utilized the meld too often; there was a high risk of developing a dangerous 'hive mentality'. For those reasons, use of and training on the meld had been discontinued at the close of the war.

After giving her a moment to absorb what he had told her, Luke spoke into her silence. "I know what you're thinking-"

"_What?"_ She interrupted. "That you're _nuts_? That this isn't exactly the best time to be going against the High Council, _especially_ after what they announced-"

"This _has_ the approval of the High Council, Leia. You standing right here with me and learning about this has the approval of the High Council. _This_ is part of the fight. _This_ is the beginning of it. Do you want to be a part of it or not?"

Her mind was reeling, she felt as if the floor had just dropped from beneath her. "I don't know."

Luke grabbed her arm. "Leia, I know this is a lot to absorb. You don't have to commit to signing up or anything, we just want to test the technology…see if it works. You were the most logical candidate. We already have such a close bond and…you're a good pilot."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "A _good_ pilot?"

"Okay, a great pilot. The best. Whatever you want to hear. Will you do it?"

She thought of her father's words. A good Jedi adapts to her surroundings, she does not wait for her surrounding to adapt to her. Leia nodded and Luke pulled her into a big hug.

"I knew you would," he beamed. "Now c'mon, everyone's waiting."

"Wait a minute," Leia replied. "Who's everyone?"


	18. Chapter 18

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

_Han Solo of all people! _Leia's face burned underneath her flight helmet. Of course, it wasn't only Han Solo, it was also Crix Madine and Ben Kenobi, but Han was the only one that mattered. She had flown in front of both Master Kenobi and General Madine, they didn't bother her. But flying in front of Han Solo…it felt as if she had something to prove.

She was as nervous as she could ever remember being. Luke must've chalked it up to the pressure of the situation because he kept sending reassuring thoughts through the Force. _If he only knew the half of it!_

Ben Kenobi coached them through the initial connection. It came quite naturally to the twins. Once they were in the battle meld it was as if they had done it for years, and maybe they had in some way. All those years flying and practicing together, they had definitely shared something similar. Either way, they blew through the simulation like child's play.

When Leia climbed out of her unit she was drenched in sweat but pumped with excitement. She couldn't recall ever flying so well before. Of course, part of her thought that she had only done so well to impress Han Solo and she wondered if she could continue expending that much effort into piloting. This was not what she had set out to do, after all. And this was Luke's arena. But she would have to figure all of that out later.

Madine, Kenobi and Solo immediately began to bombard her and Luke with questions and statistics. Their briefing lasted for hours and by the time Leia was able to hit the showers, it was nearly midnight and she was exhausted. She found the excitement of everything she had learned this evening and the pounding water rejuvenating, however, and after dressing and drying her hair, she realized that she was starved and she hoped her brother might be up for a bite to eat.

* * *

><p>Leia walked back into the practice area to find Han Solo waiting there for her. She immediately looked around for Luke.<p>

Solo nodded his head toward the exit. "Your brother walked Madine and Kenobi out. He'll be right back."

"Oh," she replied as she slung her carryall over her shoulder. She had opted to redress in her Jedi robe, hoping Master Kenobi would see it as a sign of her solidarity with the Jedi. It seemed his announcement had shed a harsh light on all her actions over the past years concerning the Jedi Order and the High Council in particular. Being a Jedi was the very essence, at the very core of her being, and she felt silly for fighting it all of these years.

"That was quite impressive flying," Han spoke into her thoughts.

"Thank you," she replied. She found it difficult to look at him, still trying to puzzle out how he fit into all of this. He had apparently been recruited specifically for this project, but in what capacity, she had no idea. And then, of course, there was the little matter of her marrying him in a few years that she had to contend with.

"Have you ever thought about joining the Academy?" He asked, making an effort to keep their conversation going. At least he seemed less inclined to bite her head off at this meeting.

She shrugged. "Not really."

"I'm sure you gotta know that they'll want to recruit you."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, shaking her head. "And how do you fit in to all of this?"

"Naw, that's alright," he said over a smooth, one-sided grin. "No need to apologize. Madine recruited me. He and I worked on this stealth technology together on Corellia."

"This technology was _stolen_ from Corellia?"

"The technology's been there. Hells, you guys had similar, if not better. There might've been a few things that I figured out. But _I_ figured it out. Not Corellia. I only took what I had up here," he said as he tapped the side of his head.

"What exactly did you figure out?"

"That's classified." He seemed pleased with himself as he said those words, but then immediately dismissed them as he explained, "But that makes it sound more glorified than it really is, trust me."

"I don't understand you," Leia returned.

"I like to tinker," he started to explain.

"No, I'm not talking about that. I mean, I don't understand finding you here, working with the Jedi, after everything you said back on Corellia."

He hesitated a moment as if just remembering that they had met before and that he had practically verbally assaulted her. But then he relaxed his shoulders and said, "A good pilot is a good pilot. When I took this job I took an oath to represent all peoples. And I don't give my word lightly." He paused over his words. "Besides, I don't recall ever questioning your abilities."

"Why _did_ you take this job?"

"If I may be blunt, that's none of your business."

"So now you ask permission to be blunt?" She said. "Did you take an oath of _manners_ as well?"

He laughed, if Leia had thought him handsome before, she couldn't even find the words to describe how he looked to her now. Disarming was a word that came to mind.

"You could say that," he replied and then his face fell serious and his voice lowered. "Look, you weren't a citizen of Corellia when you waltzed into my Naval Yard into a sector that you had no business being in."

"Does this qualify as an apology on Corellia?"

"If you think you heard an apology in there, then yes, you'd better take it because you won't get any better."

She tilted her chin up, devastatingly handsome or not, that attitude was still a major turnoff. "Apology accepted then," she replied.

The two stared at each other and probably would've done that the entire evening if Luke hadn't finally returned.

"Oh," he said, studying Leia curiously. "You're ready. Do you want to get something to eat?"

Leia had to force herself to take her eyes off of Han and face her brother. "Yes, I'm starved."

Luke smiled and then looked to Han Solo. "I'm sorry. Would you care to join us?"

Leia turned to look at him._ Please say no. Please say no. Please-_

"Sure, why not?" Han said with a shrug.

_Bloggers!_


	19. Chapter 19

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

Han walked alongside the Jedi twins in what could only be described as awkward silence. He was no student of human nature as these two probably were, but he was no dummy, either. Luke hadn't wanted to invite him and Leia hadn't wanted him to come, but since when did he let a little thing like that bother him? In a lot of ways he should hate these two. And not just that blanket hate that he harbored against all Jedi. Okay, maybe hate was a strong word, but he certainly didn't need to be friends with any of them. _Especially now_. Oh, yeah…more than ever, especially now.

It was all probably some kind of poetic justice. If he really sat down and thought about it soberly he might be able to see that. But right now it was just really frackin' inconvenient. Of course, Crix had tried to assure him that everything would still work out. What else was he going to say? At least this wasn't anywhere Han hadn't been before. It wasn't like he hadn't found himself running out of options a dozen times over in his life. He just wasn't the kind of guy to sit back and trust the word of a friend to save his butt. The only person he trusted with that job was a-number-one-himself.

So Crix had recruited him to lead the new stealth squadron and now that squadron could only consist of – and therefore be led by - a Jedi. So what if his only job left was to train his replacement? That replacement probably being the young boy walking next to him. So this kid would walk into the role of a lifetime, the chance to have not only his own ship but his own squadron. So what? _The role of my dreams. And he walks right into it_.

Han shook his head derisively. So what, was right. It wasn't in his nature to second guess his decisions. It was in his nature to make the best of every bad situation that had ever been dealt him and this was just another in a long line of them. Besides, he couldn't hate the kid for something that he had no control over and the more time he spent with him, the more he couldn't help but like him. He was a good kid; smart, clever and a good pilot even if he was a bit green…and a Jedi.

His sister, on the other hand - although he hadn't seen her in a few years and their first meeting wasn't what anyone would describe as ideal - had grown up nicely. Sure, he still didn't trust her, still harbored suspicions about that visit and he thought her loyalties were misplaced, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy looking at her. He raised his eyebrows and did just that as she walked just a few paces ahead of him now. Yes, even underneath those old Jedi robes, she was still very easy to look at, especially when she wasn't talking, which she had done quite a lot of in the briefing. _Sometimes beauty is wasted on brains_.

_Oh well_. As they approached the small cantina, Han shrugged his worries off like yesterday's underwear. There was still plenty of work to do on the stealth technology before he would find himself out of a job. By then, maybe those rumors about the Separatists or Imperials working on something would come to fruition and the Republic would have to declare war. Wars always tended to create opportunities in the military. _That's mighty altruistic of you, Solo. Wishing for war so you won't miss a paycheck_.

* * *

><p>They were sitting at a table at the back of the cantina, the heavy beat of some offworld band played through the speakers set in the wall behind them. Han took everything in with the cynical eye that had come hard-earned over the years. Corsucant was about as cosmopolitan a town as you could get. No one species reigned supreme here, there was no 'native race'. In one quick pan over the small expanse of the restaurant, Han saw no less than a dozen species and the low drone of conversation was riddled with peculiar dialects and the interesting lilt of foreign languages. His eyes came back to his table and once again and he studied his two companions.<p>

Back on Corellia, he had thought of the Jedi as some kind of super almost non-human species. Since his move to Coruscant and the subsequent time he had spent in Luke Skywalker and old man Kenobi's company, that opinion might have shifted infinitesimally, but not enough for him to write home about or anything. The fact that he now found himself in this dimly lit pub, chomping on a bantha burger and swigging pints of ale with two of the galaxy's most famous Jedi, well, that might be something to write home about. _You're anything if not versatile, Solo_.

It was true that at first his relationship with Luke started off with the old adage of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer and it was still that, to a degree. Luke could throw Han some sort of bone once he took over the stealth squadron, which it looked like he was more than likely to do, so it didn't hurt to remain in his good graces. Han was no slouch when it came to playing every angle. It was just an…_unexpected consequence_ that he was actually beginning to like the kid.

"I said, let's discuss it later, Luke."

The twins had been arguing about some of what Leia had said in the briefing. When she finally hissed this last sentence out, her eyes briefly grazed over Han's presence as if he were an Imperial listening device.

"Look," Han said, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his hand wrapped around his cold mug of ale. "I've got all the appropriate clearances to discuss this project."

"But you have no _clearance_ concerning the Jedi," she shot back.

He tamped his mouth shut. It was mystifying how her eyes could turn from warm puddles to icy orbs in a millisecond. No matter his feelings for Luke, his sister he could very well do without.

"It's no matter, though," she said, turning back to her brother. "My _feelings_ on the matter aren't classified."

"They _sanctioned_ the study," Luke argued. "Look," he said, leaning towards her. "I know what you're thinking. I've studied the same history as you have. But this is different."

She shook her head to protest. "Luke, that's the oldest and lamest argument in the book."

"No, really," he protested. "Hear me out."

Han chose to sit there and do his best to blend in with the dingy, floral fabric of the banquette he was sitting on. But those dark eyes kept flickering back to him, drawing him in. She still felt dangerous to him, even more so now, maybe.

"I'm listening," she replied after she crossed her arms and glanced at Han again.

"If this works, they'll be a special fleet. Kind of like Rogue Squadron only all Jedi pilots," Luke explained.

Leia's spine stiffened. "A Jedi Squadron in the hands of the Republic? I don't see how you think _this_ is going to convince me."

"It won't be in the hands of the Republic. We'll take all of our assignments from the High Council."

She pointedly looked over to Han, and then back at Luke. "So, they're just going to let us utilize their facilities, take their technology and not want anything in return? As much as I love the Republic, even _I_ don't believe that." She lowered her voice. "You're talking about blurring the lines between the Jedi and the standing government. That's dangerous, Luke. Especially now. What do you think father would say?"

Luke sat back. Han dissected her words, her argument. Maybe she made some valid points for someone who gave a crap about the Jedi. But he wondered why she had said 'especially now'. Was she referring to the rumors of the Imperial uprising? Somehow he didn't think so. And what about their father? Was the great Anakin Skywalker left out of this loop? One thing was for sure...something was going on with the Jedi.

Luke took his napkin off of his lap and placed it alongside of his plate. "I'll be right back. I'm going to the 'fresher," he said as he stood and walked toward the front of the restaurant.

Han watched Luke go and then turned back to Leia. She took a sip of her ale; her eyes were trained on the table across from them. She seemed unable do anything more than steal glances at him when she thought he might not be looking. She didn't like him. Maybe he deserved that, it wasn't as if he had been very congenial to her when they first met. But still. Han hated subtlety.

"You don't like me," he stated flatly as he took a sip of his ale.

She looked at him, finally. "I don't _trust_ you," she said. "The man I met on Corellia would never be so self-sacrificing, especially for the good of the Jedi."

"You can certainly size a man up after one meeting, can't you?"

"It was a _helluva_ meeting," she scoffed.

"And for what?" He asked. She seemed confused, so he elaborated, placing his elbows back on the table and leaning towards her so that he could lower his voice. "Why were you and the Princess there that day?"

The Jedi bristled visibly although he could tell that she did her best to hide it.

"You wanna talk about trust?" He whispered, leaning back in his seat. "I don't trust you either."

"Well," she replied haughtily. "As long as we know where we stand."

He studied her for a moment but he left the conversation there. He took a swig of his drink and she did the same. That impromptu visit had never sat well with him. As the years went by, he had dismissed it, but there were still things that he wanted to know, things that he wanted to ask her but never thought he would have the chance. Now that he had the chance, he wondered if he would have the nerve to take it.

"You still trying to get into politics?" He asked.

She shrugged and nodded.

"I would've thought that you were expected to follow in your old dad's footsteps."

"I do what I want and not what everyone expects of me."

He smiled at her naiveté. "Is that why you're wearing that Jedi robe? Because it's what you want?"

Her eyes trained on him. "What do you know of it? You're a _grounded_ pilot. You teach instead of fly. At least I do what I want to do. No one or nothing has grounded me."

Her words wiped his smile from his face. "You're kinda young to be making such absolute statements."

She took her napkin off of her lap. "I think it's time for me to go," she said.

He sat back, watching her. "Just as I thought."

She was standing now. "What? What is it, Commander? What is it that you _think_ you know? Because I'd like to set you straight."

He moved toward her but remained seated. "I think you were sent to Corellia to size me up."

"_What?_"

"You heard me. To use your _Jedi senses_ and see if I was worth a lick. You don't think I'm gonna take it as a coincidence that Crix left just a few months after your visit?"

Her face fell as her indignation visibly drained out of her. "I can assure you that the conclusions which you have drawn by my visit are so far from accurate that they're almost comical."

Her claim seemed genuine. But something told him that he was still not that far off.

She leaned back onto her barstool without actually sitting back down. "I was not sent to _size you up_. Although, I will confess that our meeting wasn't entirely accidental."

"And why was that?" He pressed.

"I'm sorry. That's classified." She waited two heartbeats and then her face softened into a smug smile, "But that really makes it sound much more interesting than it is…trust me."

Her brother arrived just as she finished speaking and studied the two of them for a moment. Leia stood, her eyes still on Han. "You ready?" Luke asked her.

"Yes," she replied, turning toward her brother. "Let's go."


	20. Chapter 20

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant (a few months later)_

"I'm going to tell Father about the new squadron."

Leia stole a glance at her brother but his eyes were straight ahead. The pair was walking together from the Naval Building to their parent's hotel suite several blocks away. Anakin and Padme Skywalker had arrived for an unannounced visit earlier that morning and the twins had agreed to meet them for dinner.

"Everything?" Leia asked while she turned her attention back to the busy street in front of her. A lot had happened in the lives of the Skywalker twins since they had seen their Father last. He usually didn't like being kept in the dark regarding his children's activities and Leia secretly wondered if this visit was to check up on them.

"He'll want to know about Rogue Squadron, I can't hide it from him forever," he stated coolly. "I've gotten approval from the Council to tell him and Mother about the new squad."

Leia breathed a little easier. All of their activities had been so wrapped up in secrecy lately that just mentioning it while out on the streets of Coruscant gave her the jitters. As soon as Luke and Leia were able to prove the capabilities of the modified X-wing fighters, several more Jedi had been recruited and training had already begun full force.

Reports of the Imperials - remnants of the diehard followers of Palpatine's New Order - gearing up for something, had set their project on the fast track. While all the pilots were still training on flight simulators, the first of the modified aircraft were coming off the assembly line. She and Luke, and others to follow, would be in the air very soon.

"What about the technology?" Leia asked, wondering just how much trust the Council was willing to place in Anakin Skywalker.

"That would be on a need-to-know basis and at this point, it's felt that he does not need to know."

Leia didn't miss the direct reference to their Father. Not 'they' don't need to know, but 'he' doesn't need to know. She guessed her Father's recent shenanigans hadn't improved his standing with the Council.

So this is where it begins, Leia thought. The separation between child and parent and Padawan and Master. "How do you think he'll react to you serving under Master Kenobi?"

It was nothing more than a formality at this point, she knew. But Leia had never officially joined the fledgling squadron that would be led by her brother but ultimately report to Obi Wan Kenobi and the Jedi High Council. It was a 'formality', however, that she planned to exploit this evening when her and Luke's recent activities were put under the microscope of their father.

"He'll have no reason to disapprove," Luke replied.

"That's never stopped him before." Luke glanced at her and made a noise with his throat. "What?" Leia responded. "You know how he is about the Council. You see as well as I do how he has been acting lately, ever since that assembly. And from the beginning, he's all but begged us to pursue interests outside of the Temple. _That_ was what the military was _supposed_ to be for you, Luke. Just in case you've forgotten."

Their father's activities and whereabouts had been shrouded in as much secrecy as their own as of late. He had continued to refuse to take on a new Padawan after she and Luke were officially knighted. And whenever the twins called home, Padme would make excuses for Anakin's absence, saying only that he was traveling. Yet, as steeped as they had been lately in High Council business, Luke and Leia knew for a fact that he was not working on anything for the Jedi Order. It certainly begged the question: So where was he going?

"What about your position in the Republic? Have you forgotten that _that_ was supposed to be your outside interest?" Luke asked pointedly, reminding her that she was in no better position to face her father's scrutiny than he was.

Leia shrugged and bit her lip.

"How _will_ you serve the Force, Leia?" Luke asked. "I mean in light of everything."

He had no need to explain what the word 'everything' could encompass. "I know what you mean, Luke and I don't know just yet. I've presented my case before the Council…months ago. Sometimes I think that they've dropped it, assuming that I'll join you and the new squadron and maybe I will." They walked a little further in silence and then she added, "I suppose I've been waiting for them to express their wishes for me. No one has said anything to me as of yet."

"I don't mean what the Council wants you to do, Leia. Or Father. The Force has its own plans for you and you have to listen to it, to choose the right path, as I have done with mine." They had arrived at the hotel and as Luke allowed Leia to enter the doorway ahead of him, he asked, "What is the _Force_ telling you to do?"

The question was a good one. She had been so preoccupied with the squadron and Sith and Han Solo that she and the Force hadn't been speaking too well lately. It was so contrary to all that she had ever been taught. Nothing came before the will of the Force. If a Jedi ever felt overwhelmed, it could only be that they had stopped listening to the Force. And Leia had never felt so overwhelmed.

"Well?" Luke pressed as they made their way to the turbolifts.

"I don't know, okay?" She snapped.

Once alone on the lifts, Luke spoke, his tone light, "I wouldn't worry about how Dad's going to react to _my_ news, sis. Because if he gets these kinds of mixed signals from you, you'll have your own problems to deal with."

Her anger flared, not because Luke was wrong, but because he was so right. "Do me a favor and worry about yourself, huh?" She replied as they stepped off of the lift. "I can handle Father."

"That's what you've always thought, but I have a feeling that someday you're gonna realize that you don't have him as figured out as you think."

She wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but they had arrived at their parents' door.

* * *

><p>"I saw Wedge Antilles. He was…aloof when I asked him about your bid for Rogue Squadron," Anakin Skywalker said to Luke as the family sat around the dinner table together. Leia was surprised and perhaps a little impressed at how long her Father had held off saying anything about it.<p>

"That's because I won't be serving in Rogue Squadron," Luke answered. "I had wanted to wait until after dinner to discuss this…" He looked to his mother.

Padme smiled as she looked between her son, her husband and her daughter. "It's fine," she said softly. "I think we've exhausted all matter of pleasantries already and I'd be curious myself as to what's been going on with you."

"There's been a new squadron created," Luke spat out as if the words had been boiling up inside of him. "A smaller one. More specialized. And I'll be its lead."

"A Commander?" Anakin asked, pride evident in his still-questioning eyes.

"Yes, although reluctantly," Luke replied. "I have very little experience leading men."

"Or women," Leia interjected, trying to lighten the increasingly tense mood.

"Leadership is an ingrained quality that cannot be taught and you have it," Anakin replied to Luke and then turned to Leia and added, "All Skywalkers do."

Leia only lasted a few short moments under his gaze before she diverted her eyes away from him.

"Your squadron will be _specialized_. How so?" Anakin continued quizzing Luke.

"The details of that, I'm afraid, are classified," Luke began. "I am at liberty to tell you, though, that all my pilots will be Jedi."

Anakin sat back in his seat, pensive.

Padme, who had been observing quietly, leaned forward. "An entire squadron of Jedi?" She clarified.

"Yes," Luke replied.

"Isn't that a little dangerous in the hands of the government?" His mother asked.

"That's what I said," Leia stated.

"We won't be in the hands of the Republic," Luke replied and stopped there. Anakin had already stiffened at his words but said nothing. Luke pressed on. "The Jedi will…cooperate with the Republic military for as far as the Force guides us. But the squad will ultimately report to the High Council."

The tension in the room reached a crescendo. "Who, exactly will you report to? Or is that also classified?" Anakin asked, his voice and manner indicating that he already suspected who.

"It's not classified," Luke answered. "I will report to Master Kenobi."

"I see," his father replied.

"You're disappointed."

"I'm surprised."

"The Force is at peace with my decision."

"That's all we can ask then, isn't it?"

There was a long awkward silence after the two Skywalker men finished speaking. It was finally broken when Leia's father turned to her and asked, "What about you? Has the Council ever responded to your hearing?"

Leia shook her head. "No."

"Don't let these…new developments cast a shadow over all of the work that you've done. Remain focused on the path we discussed and you'll see your way through all obstacles," he told her.

"Yes, Father." Part of her wanted to tell him that she had all but joined Luke's squadron, but somehow she didn't think she or anybody else at the table had the energy for that particular discussion that evening.

"Why don't we finish eating?" Padme offered and all eyes in the room went down to their plates.

All of a sudden Leia felt tremendously guilty, as if she had thrown her brother in the rancor pit to fend for himself. Any shred of an appetite she might have had was lost as she fiddled absently with her meal. Any day now the Council could get back to her about that position, that was true. And banthas could sprout wings and fly someday as well. Deep in her heart she knew where her path lied, at least for the foreseeable future. It was only a matter of time before both of the Skywalker twins would be at the disposal of the High Council.

Leia set her utensil down and looked around the table. It would probably be best for everyone if _that_ conversation didn't occur over dinner and definitely in her best interest if perhaps it took place over the holocomm with a few dozen star systems between her and her father. She wondered is she would ever grow immune to the need for his approval even if she understood that she couldn't let that need control her.


	21. Chapter 21

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

Leia made her way to the Naval building. As much as she enjoyed working with Bail and Winter Organa, she found herself merely biding her time during the day with them as her thoughts lay more and more with the stealth squadron project. Every evening she would arrive at the training area eager to begin her day as everyone else's was winding down.

More often than not, her brother would be there waiting for her to practice together and fill her in on all the details that had taken place during her absence. As she entered the large training room she did find someone operating the sims. She hadn't sensed her brother's presence as she approached and another quick check toward the equipment indicated that it was indeed not the male human she had been expecting at all.

It was Han Solo.

Although not Force sensitive, every being possessed a Force signature. Much like a student of handwriting might profess that one's handwritten signature conveyed a great deal about someone's character, a Force signature was much the same. Han's Force signature thrummed steady and searing. It was a true reflection of his strong character but Leia often wondered if there were other reasons that his closeness always seemed so disconcerting to her.

She heaved a deep sigh as she slung her carryall on a nearby bench and slinked into the control station hoping not to be noticed by the room's only other occupant. During the three years between their first meeting and Han Solo's arrival on Coruscant, Leia had certainly thought about the man. But those thoughts had been organized and controlled. Without him always around in the flesh, she had been able to deal with the knowledge that her future self had felt necessary to press upon her.

But now, with him always around, always near her, she felt helpless, her thoughts completely out of her control. At times, more often than not, she wished that she had never seen that message. Constantly second-guessing her decision back then to track him down and meet him. She spent far too many hours imagining how their relationship might be different if she had not pressed the issues all those years ago.

He _had_ seemed different since his arrival on Coruscant. But no amount of pretending could erase what had already transpired between them. And, unfortunately, it seemed that that initial meeting had set the tone for all of their subsequent interactions.

Namely, although she was now nearly twenty years old, he still seemed to look at and treat her like a child – except when he decided to make inappropriate comments to her, or about her, which had been an unwelcomed addition to his repertoire as of late. He also nursed that grudge against Jedi and the Skywalker family, albeit now it only seemed to be directed at her because with Luke and the rest of the squad, it had all but disappeared.

She slid into the observation chair and began to study the readouts from Commander Solo's simulation run. The man was an excellent pilot. Although still outspoken and cocky, she found herself agreeing with his opinions more often than not. Madine, and even Ackbar, were brilliant tacticians and soldiers, but their respect and admiration of the Jedi sometimes seemed to cloud their thinking when it came to organizing this squadron. Han Solo suffered from no such difficulties. He called things as he saw them no matter if it went against the Mon Cal Admiral or a Jedi Master.

On another note, she was able to understand him more now that she had a clearer picture of how he had arrived here and they had had ample opportunities to work together. Certainly the situation he found himself in upon his arrival wouldn't lend itself to any empathy for the Jedi. She understood that. According to his records, he was slated to _lead_ this squadron until an engineering dead-end dropped it right into her and Luke's laps. Now he was all but working himself out of a job. But he had taken it all in stride. He still worked and practiced, brainstormed and argued with as much passion, if not more, than anyone else on this project. Madine had assured her that Solo would land on his feet. Something told her that that would always be the case for the irreverent Corellian.

"I didn't know you'd find my numbers so fascinating."

Leia looked up and was surprised to find Han standing at the entryway to the control room. She had gotten so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even realized that he had finished his session. "I was just…" she stammered, unable to make up a quick excuse.

"_Impressed?_" Han suggested with an amused grin as he stepped further into the room.

"Not quite," she replied as she switched the computer off and stood.

"C'mon," he chided. "I compliment you on your flight sims all the time."

She crossed her arms. It was true. When it came to all aspects of the project, Han was honest and forthright. He had given her a fair share of constructive criticism but it was hard to forget how nice it felt each time he had praised her piloting abilities.

"And remember," he said into her silence. "I don't even have the Force."

He said 'the Force' in that way that he had that poked fun of it while still acknowledging its power. "You would make a terrible Jedi," she replied and as he opened his mouth to respond, she added, "But you are a damned good pilot."

His grin stretched delightedly across his face, whatever backhanded comment he had been ready to dole out, fell silent with his obvious pleasure at being complimented.

"Don't look so happy, Solo. Someone might think you have feelings."

"Would that someone be you?" He asked, his tone deepening.

Leia felt a heat crawl up her neck. For the life of her she could not comprehend how he could turn any and all conversations into some kind of come on. She found it despicable and for the millionth time wondered what in the worlds her future self ever saw in this man. "You're a total contradiction," she stated as if he would know exactly what she meant.

"Why? Because I have brains and a sense of humor?" He guessed.

"I've seen no conclusive evidence that you have either one of those two things."

"Oh," he said, his body straightening up. "Then it must be because you think I'm talented and good looking, unlike these other saps around here."

She fought the rising indignation that he so easily coaxed out of her. "I've already told you that you're a decent pilot...and good looks," she said as she took the opportunity to study him from head to toe, "are a very _subjective_ attribute."

"A _damned good_ pilot, I believe is what you said," he replied. "And a grounded one, if I remember correctly."

She flinched at his mention of her harsh words several months prior but at the same time was flattered somehow that he remembered them.

When she didn't respond to his comment he smoothly switched gears by asking her, "You and Luke practicing tonight?"

She looked around the empty practice arena. "It doesn't look like it, no," she replied. It had become an easy habit for them, pressing each other just far enough before easily seguing into a safer line of conversation. "I'll probably just review the numbers from today and then stop by to take a look at the prototypes."

"Alright then," he stated. "Don't work too late."

With that, he turned and left and she stood where she was and watched him. _Subjective attribute, my foot_, she thought as she was unable to tear her eyes away from his retreating form. At least he was handsome; she had to admit that much. But had her future self been drawn in solely by that shallow of a characteristic? After enduring numerous conversations like the one that had just occurred, fielding Han Solo's snide comments and innuendos, Leia feared just that very thing. For all his positive qualities, he could negate every single, blasted one of them simply by opening his mouth!

But that didn't stop her from wondering how he would react if she took him up on one of his offers. She tried to imagine the look on his face if she were to waltz into the showers to join him. Knowing she would never, ever do such a thing prompted the warmth to crawl up her neck once more in protest to her lustful line of thinking.

But that didn't stop her from thinking it.


	22. Chapter 22

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

It was difficult for anyone to spend all of their time surrounded by a foreign species, even more difficult if you didn't speak their language. Nearly unbearable if the majority of the galaxy's population didn't understand your language, and in most cases, couldn't even or wouldn't even _try_ to understand your language. But Chewbacca wasn't one to complain. Wookiees were a patient and loyal species. And despite their intimidating demeanor, they were very tolerant and just and often misunderstood.

Chewbacca had seen and experienced a lot in his lifetime. Being over two hundred years old he sort of chuckled when his human companions would marvel at how fast the universe moved for them. Time was something that one had to make friends with, make a certain peace with if they were ever expected to understand it. So many people wasted their time fighting time. It was more than a little ironic and, in Chewbacca's opinion, it was a silly enemy for them to waste their efforts on.

At least his immediate charges were more intelligent than most. He liked the Organas. He liked working for them. But if he had to be honest, he would have to admit that he had only been biding his time. Since the day he started working for them, he had been waiting for something. Waiting patiently, of course, like any Wookiee worth a worshyr limb would do. But waiting just the same, for this opportunity and for the _right_ time. He had thought perhaps a few years ago that that opportunity and that time had come, but it hadn't felt right and he hadn't forced it. But now something gently tugged at him, whispered to him. This time was right. The time was now.

It had all started over twenty years ago, when a young man came to speak to him; a Jedi. This young man claimed to be from the future. He claimed to be fixing something in the past. The young man told the Wookiee a story about a smuggler and a life debt and a princess. It seemed that while fixing the past, the Jedi was worried about ruining some aspects of the future. That was where Chewbacca was supposed to fit in to the story.

The Jedi had cautioned the Wookiee, assured him that he would know when the time was right. Said that he would know who to tell and what to say. It had been a great honor to be trusted with such a task as that. There wasn't a day that went by that Chewbacca hadn't thought about it. There wasn't a day that went by that he hadn't waited for this time to come. Even as he watched that very same Jedi grow up from a small child with a sister who was no longer a princess. She was a Jedi, too. The young man had told him that might happen.

He had also watched as that former princess found the smuggler. He was fairly certain that she had sought him out, even. Did she know? The Wookiee wasn't sure. So he had watched and listened, only the smuggler wasn't a smuggler and the pair didn't look to be getting along all that well as far as lovers go. The young Jedi had warned him about that, too.

Nothing had happened that day, three years ago. Chewbacca hadn't said anything. He had just continued to bide his time. Obviously that timing hadn't been right. He sure hoped that _this_ timing was. Because now here he was and he was certain that the time had most definitely come to make his move.

It was time to decide who to tell and what to tell them. Chewbacca hoped that the Jedi hadn't placed his trust foolishly in his Wookiee paws.

The Wookiee walked down the streets of Coruscant toward the Naval Building. Excitement coursed through his veins. It wasn't every day that he changed someone's destiny. It took some doing on his part, but he finally got his message across to the front desk and Han Solo had been summoned. The fact that Solo spoke Shryiiwook was certainly going to make his job a lot easier. Still, he worried that the Corellian wouldn't believe him. The Jedi had been very specific about that. That's why Chewie had decided to tell only half of the story. The half that the Corellian was more apt to believe. The half that contained starships and freedom and left out any mention of Jedi, princesses and true love.

* * *

><p>They were sitting in a small cantina. It was a difficult feat to find a barroom on Coruscant that didn't have holographic dancing girls on every table and scantily clad Twi'leks flitting about the place, but Han Solo had found one with relative ease. The pair slid into a bar-height table situated near the back wall where they could both keep their eyes on the exits and had easy access to the barkeep and waitresses. Han ordered a round for the two of them. Chewbacca genuinely liked the Corellian. And it wasn't just because he was one of the few sentients that he had occasion to deal with that actually understood him, there was something else about him - as if they were somehow kindred spirits. Of course the tale he was about to spin would suggest just that.<p>

The low-lighting and smoky haze that filled the cantina had prevented the Wookiee from being able to accurately gauge Han's reaction as he spilled his secret. The spacer nodded his headed and grunted a few "uh-huh's" where appropriate, but other than that had remained stoic and passive during the entire story. And when Chewbacca finally finished speaking, Solo took a really long time to say anything at all. In fact, the only thing that he had done was promptly finish his pint of ale and order another one.

The Wookiee had told the Corellian all about how, in another life, Han had rescued him from slavery and how he had owned a starship and how Chewie had been his first mate. Basically, Chewie had told him everything except how it had been the Jedi Luke Skywalker that had told him twenty years ago and then of course, who Han was supposed to fall in love with and marry.

For the Wookiee it felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from his chest. The burden of carrying that Jedi's secret had finally been lifted. He had not realized how oppressive the task had been until now that he was free from it. Mostly free from it anyway. It hadn't occurred to him before but now he felt as though he were a slave to something and now he was not. And once again in this new future, in a different future, it had been a meeting with Han Solo that had liberated him.

When his fresh glass came, Han took a long pull, nearly emptying half of the mug on that first swig. "Bring me another," he coughed out almost in afterthought to the departing waitress.

Chewie patiently waited for Han to address him. He gave him time to stew in his thoughts. He had to remember how farfetched his story might sound to someone. For Chewbacca the word of the Jedi had been an almost unquestionable truth. For many others in the galaxy, the Wookiee realized, it would not be the same. And Han was hearing it from a Wookiee, not a Jedi.

Han finally looked up at Chewie as if to confirm that he was really sitting there and not just some hallucination. "Yeah, right," he muttered before taking another swig of his ale and looking away. Chewbacca couldn't recall ever seeing anyone looking so uncomfortable before and he was a Wookiee, he made everyone uncomfortable.

The waitress came and went another time. Chewbacca warbled a thanks and took a swig from his fresh mug. He had been keeping pace with the Corellian, if only to be polite but if they drank much more, he felt that he might have to tell his tale all over again the next day.

"That, um…all sounds pretty nice the way you paint it," Han finally said. "I mean, everything except you being a slave and all."

Chewie asked him what he thought of having his own starship.

"Me and my own starship?" The spacer got a dreamy look in his eyes and for the first time since Chewie had finished talking, the features on Han's face seemed to relax. "I can't even imagine how happy I must've been. What coulda been so bad that they had to come back and louse that up?"

Chewie politely reminded him of the part about him being a slave.

Han shifted in his seat. "Oh yeah. Sorry, pal."

The two became very silent again. The Wookiee finally asked him that if he wanted his own starship then why didn't he just get one.

"I know they have credits on Kashyyyk," Han replied and then his eyes went up in thought. "The warooo," he fumbled for the right word.

Chewie supplied the correct word.

"The Rwook. That's it," Han said excitedly. "Anyway, a starship costs plenty of Rwooks, which I ain't got."

Chewbacca shared the Wookiees' belief that destiny was something that someone chased after and made for himself, not sat around and waited for it to drop in their laps. He took the nearly emptied mug of ale from Han's hand and added that it wouldn't be found at the bottom of a glass of ale, either.

"Excuse me," Han replied, clearly agitated as he snatched his drink back from Chewie. "But since we're being so honest here, how 'bout I just tell ya that I don't believe a word of your _hokey_, futuristic bending story."

The Wookiee expressed his lack of shock.

Han stood, set his drink back down and pointed at Chewbacca, "And I don't like you coming around here and acting like you got me all pegged out. If you ask me, you're the one that needs some sound advice and direction. If what you say is true, it sounds like you're the one that got a second chance on his destiny and what have you gone and done with it? Become a bodyguard to some pampered royals?"

Chewbacca growled a warning at the slightly intoxicated Corellian.

Han Solo didn't flinch. He was either more intoxicated or more cocky then Chewie gave him credit for. Han stood for a moment more, seemed as if he was going to say something but then moved to leave, only he was heading further into the bar instead of toward the exit. The Wookiee grabbed him by the arm and told him that the exit was the other way. Han yanked his arm free indignantly, repositioned himself and sauntered away, looking back just one time as if to confirm that Chewie was still really there.

And then he was gone.

Chewie sat alone for a long time with his thoughts. Finally, he waved the waitress over and motioned for another drink as he stared absently at the empty chair where Han Solo had been sitting. Somehow, after twenty years of anticipation, and waiting and wondering, the entire thing had been nothing like what he had expected. He wondered how it was that the Corellian had seemed to, so adeptly, turn the tables on him. Ever since Luke Skywalker had visited him that day, the Wookiee had concentrated on this task, the task of _telling Han Solo_, not giving much concern or thought as to what _his_ new future should be or would be or what it all might mean to him. With his job now done, he wondered what he would do with himself. He wondered what he had been doing with himself.

A bodyguard to pampered royals. That's what Han had called him. Of course, he knew he was much more than that. Wasn't he? Should he be?

The waitress brought him his drink and he sipped at it absently. Something deep inside of him told him that telling his story had been only the _beginning_ of his part in all of this and not the ending that he had thought it would be. That, and that he hadn't seen the last of one puzzling Corellian.


	23. Chapter 23

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

Han Solo walked briskly through the halls of the Republic Naval Building. Even while nursing a pretty mean hangover, he couldn't help but think about what that crazy old Wookiee had told him. Sure, he didn't believe the cock-eyed story one bit, but the big furball had made some sense. Like the part when he told Han that destiny wasn't just going to fall into his lap and that flying his own starship would be a pretty swell gig for him. Hell, even that mouthy Jedi had given him hell about being a grounded pilot.

Yes, it was about time he took matters into his own hands. He couldn't just sit around and wait for the bottom to fall out and then go scrambling for the leftovers. It was wiser to cut in front of the line and take the pick of the litter. Han turned a corner and headed straight for the office that he was looking for. Without so much as a cursory rap of his knuckles, he slid the door open and stormed right in.

"Look, Crix," Han immediately started. "I'm tired of all this waiting around. Either cut me a deal now or I'm ready to walk."

Crix Madine was seated at his desk and had been typing something into his datastation. He didn't flinch when Han busted into his office. In fact, he continued typing and addressed Han without looking at him. "Solo, I don't recall having a meeting scheduled with you."

"Last time I checked I didn't need an appointment to turn in my stripes." Han pulled his rank insignia from off his jacket and slammed it onto Madine's desk.

Crix finally stopped typing. First looking at the discarded insignia and then leaning back in his chair and looking at Han. Crix said, "You and I both know that you don't want to do that."

Crix's calm demeanor only served to rile Han up more. "Yeah, well, you and I both know that all I'm doing here is working myself out of a job anyway."

"I've told you to be patient. That I've-"

"_Patience_ ain't my thing, Crix. Pay up or shut up. I'd rather go crawling back to the Corellian Navy with my tail between my legs then stay here any longer as your patsy."

"Now I _know_ that you don't really want to do that."

"Yeah? Well, that's a lot of what I _don't want to do_. How 'bout we talk about what I _do_ want to do?"

Crix considered Han for a moment and then opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a large file. "Close the door and have a seat," he said, as he began thumbing through the flimsis inside of the folder.

Han shut the door and then turned back to Crix and took a seat in one of his guest chairs. His heart was still pounding wildly and he tried to calm himself while he watched the general peruse through whatever paperwork he was looking at. Finally, Madine seemed to have found what he was looking for and he leaned back in his chair and studied one piece of flimsi that he now held in his hand.

Crix rubbed his chin absently as he read and Han noticed the stubble along his jaw. It looked like the Republic General hadn't rested or shaved since Han had seen him the day before. The longer the silence continued, the more Han's anger lost its steam and he began to second guess his tactics. He eyed his insignia still lying on the corner of the desk and wondered if he could scoop it back up while Madine wasn't looking.

"You've got impeccable timing, Solo." Crix finally said as he tossed the flimsiplast up on his desk. "That old Solo luck you're always bragging about, I guess."

"Oh, yeah? How's that?" Han asked, trying to recapture his indignation from earlier.

Crix looked over to Han's discarded insignia and Han felt his stomach do a flip flop. Tearing off his stripes and throwing them at his superior officer didn't seem like the greatest of ideas any longer. Crix actually looked pleased as he recognized Han's discomfiture. "It's appropriate actually, that you've…_handed in_ your stripes."

_Aw, great. This is it. _"Is that right?" Han eyed the paperwork on the General's desk and wondered if he had just blustered his way out of a nice severance package.

"Yes, that's right," Madine echoed with a wry smile and Han was reminded why he didn't ever really like the guy much. "You're lucky I know you, Solo," he said seriously. "Try and pull _that crap_," Crix nodded at Han's insignia, "with anybody else around here and you'll earn yourself a court martial."

Han said nothing, but to himself he was thinking that he would never stick around long enough to see the inside of a military courtroom – if it ever came to that.

Madine leaned forward and thumbed a switch on the underside of his desk. A small hum began to emanate throughout the room. It was a voice scrambler; it would counteract any eavesdropping equipment. The Naval Building had top notch security. This type of counterintelligence was overkill at best. But the fact that the general thought it was necessary made Han's palms sweat. For a minute Han thought that his old friend might skip the trial and go straight to the execution.

"There's a special ops unit looking for a new agent," Crix began. "A pilot. Only a few names have been tossed around. Yours has been at the top." He leaned back in his chair, studying Han's reaction. "You can send me a bottle of brandy later."

It took Han a minute to catch up, to switch gears from being knocked off to being offered an opportunity of a lifetime. Han immediately became suspicious. "What's the catch?"

"You wanted your own squadron?" Madine asked. "You'll _be_ your own squadron. Covert ops. Totally underground. You'll no longer be listed as Naval personnel. You'll have to disappear. AWOL as far as most will know. You fit the bill perfectly. You're new around here, have a reputation as a rogue. No family to come looking for you. The job is all but yours if you want it."

Disbelief still coursed through his veins, but it didn't stop his brain from asking pertinent questions. "Who would I report to?"

"Colonel Airen Cracken," Madine answered and then pulled out another flimsi and started to read it. "He's a good guy, I've worked with him before. A decorated officer, good to his men. He's not _Corellian_," he said as he looked at Han, "but he's married to one, so I think you may be able to get along."

The more Crix spoke, the more Han was willing to believe him. "What's the rank?"

"You'll go over as a Commander, but the hazardous pay will be obscene." Crix leaned back again. "You'll probably make more credits than me, but you won't have a minute to spend them. This is a life changing commitment. You'll live in the skies. Be permanently on call."

Han had been promised the rank of a general when Madine and Ackbar had recruited him, but he didn't think about that at all, in fact, he had heard very little after hearing the words 'obscene credits' and 'live in the skies'. His insides were doing somersaults and dances but outwardly he didn't flinch. "Where do I sign?"

Madine shook his head. "I thought maybe you'd want time to think about it. I should've known better," he said. "Cracken's dug up some old fossil and is retrofitting her. He likens himself as a bit of a mechanic." He consulted his datastation and then said, "Cracken'd like to meet you before we get the paperwork started. Just a formality. Meet me at the Naval shipyard at oh-five-hundred and I'll take you over there." He looked at Han. "And wear your civvies."

Han stood, the muscles in his legs still trembling either from the hangover or from the excitement, he couldn't be sure. He looked down at his stripes, still lying rather innocuously on the desk.

Crix looked over at him and followed his gaze down to his discarded stripes. "Yeah," he said, matter-of-factly. "Maybe you should hang on to those until everything's official, huh?"

"Yeah," Han replied sheepishly as he scooped up the patch and worked at reattaching it to his uniform. "Maybe," he mumbled as he turned and left the room.


	24. Chapter 24

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

Han was almost late to meet Madine at the shipyards. After his impromptu visit with the general and Madine's subsequent bombshell, Han had returned to his apartment to regroup. Having no pressing commitments that day, he took his time cleaning himself up, rehydrating and trying to make himself presentable for his potential new boss. Who would've thought that the one thing that would prove to be the biggest challenge would've been the simplest thing that Madine had mentioned: 'wear your civvies'.

Having been in the military for as long as he could remember, Han didn't own many civilian clothes. He had all manner of officer's uniforms, from formal dress to fatigues both in Corellian and Republic Naval colors but plain clothes were something that was sorely understocked in his footlocker. What he finally settled on was his old bloodstripe trousers. Although it would be illegal for him to wear his Corellian military garments now that he had left, bloodstripes - once earned - were a privilege that could never be taken away.

The moment that he slipped the old pants on, he instantly felt different and all other decisions surrounding his wardrobe became inconsequential. He ran his hand along the golden seam at his hip, memories of how he had earned this honor, both the gold and the red stripes, poured over him in a slow procession. In the mirror he stared at his reflection. Maybe that Wookiee had been crazy, but something about all of this seemed right.

He snapped out of his thoughts and continued to dress. He pulled out an old, dingy, used-to-be-white shirt and an old spacer's vest and tried them on for size, not even remembering where or when he had acquired them. Some old girlfriend had given them to him, he thought, and made a mental note that he would have to do some shopping if this whole thing ended up working out. The shirt had once had buttons at the wrists, but they were missing, so he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and slid into an old pair of leather boots that came up to his knees.

As he left his apartment, almost in afterthought, he grabbed his personal holdout blaster and tucked it in his pants at the small of his back. Madine was waiting for him when he reached the shipyards and the pair boarded an unmarked hovercar and headed across town with Crix at the controls. Han had a million questions, but he held back, not wanting to seem too eager. Something deep inside wouldn't let him believe that he was this lucky and he was halfway waiting for the other shoe to drop when Crix finally pulled into an old, nondescript civilian hangar.

Han had flown all manner of ships in his lifetime and he was very familiar with anything that came out of the famous Corellian shipyards. The YT-1300 was no exception. Although he had never piloted one before, he had flown against a few, chasing outlaw smugglers during his time with the Corellian Navy. The things were not as sleek as some other designs, but in the right hands, they could fly loops around most any other ship their size. They were known to be reliable, durable, and easy to modify and had once littered the skies throughout the galaxy.

Time had not been kind to the love affair pilots had with the old YT-1300 and it had slowly been replaced by several different models over the years until not even a slight resemblance could be found in the newest designs coming off the lines nowadays. The ship that Madine was taking him toward looked as if it could've personally been responsible for its brethrens' slow fall from favor. Much like the shirt that Han wore, there wasn't much of a hint left of the bright white exterior that the hull was originally crafted from. And if a ship were capable of sighing heavily in exhaustion, this one would be the one to do it.

But none of that mattered. Because to Han, she was beautiful.

As they approached, a male human lumbered down the ship's boarding ramp. Han quickly sized him up. He looked just a little bit older than Han's twenty-nine, judging by the silver hair that was doing a good job of making itself at home around the man's temples. The rest of his hair was a fiery red. His roundish face was grease-smudged and tired and his green eyes had tracked and locked right on to Han's as they approached.

"Airen," Crix called out. "I've got someone here to see you."

The older man glanced back at the ship, like a father would as a date arrived at the door for his daughter. When he looked back, Han could tell that he was the one that was now being sized up. He straightened his posture as he and Crix came to a stop at the edge of the lowered ramp.

"Solo," Cracken said warmly as he stuck his hand out. "After pouring over your files for so long, I feel like we know each other already."

"It always makes me nervous when people feel the need to write down anything about me, sir," Han confessed as the pair shook hands.

"Don't be nervous, I'm suspect of anyone who doesn't have a few reprimands in their file. I only recruit people with _brains_ to be on my team." The Colonel tapped his finger against his temple. "In the military, using your brain usually gets you into trouble. But that shouldn't stop us."

"Yes, sir." Usually a ripe serving of 'sirs' was enough to give Han indigestion. But he felt an immediate liking to Colonel Cracken and it never hurt to turn on the respect when it was called for.

"You can drop with the sirs, Solo," Cracken answered as if reading Han's thoughts. "You'll find I'm a very _informal_ leader. I expect results. You give 'em to me and we won't have any problems."

"Then I don't expect we'll have any problems," Han replied while his eyes drifted back to the ship.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?" Cracken asked, indicating the old freighter.

"Yes, sir, she is," Han replied, momentarily forgetting to drop the honorific as he stepped forward and ran his hand over the ship's battered hull.

"You're loony, the both of you," Madine replied, eyeing the ship with confusion and a touch of disdain.

"Ah, you're not a spacer, Crix. A malady that I'm afraid hasn't got any cure," Cracken shot back.

"You don't say," Madine replied.

"How 'bout a tour?" Cracken motioned to Solo as he stepped back onto the ramp.

Han nodded and began to follow as Madine said, "I've already had the pleasure and don't know if I deserve a second helping. Can you give Solo a lift back to base when you're done?"

"I'll find my way back," Han offered and as Cracken added his assurances, Madine took his leave.

* * *

><p>"She's been a special project of mine, I have to tell you," Airen was saying as the two men walked up the ramp. "My wife calls her 'the other woman' and I'm not inclined to argue. She takes up all of my time, siphons money out of all of my accounts and occupies my spare thoughts throughout the day." They had made it to the ringed corridor when the Colonel stopped and looked at Han, a conspiratorial grin on his face. "But she doesn't talk back or expect me to remember our anniversary."<p>

"The best of both worlds," Han agreed as his eyes traveled along the interior of the ship. She was practically gutted, her wires and innards were exposed for as far as Han's eye could see.

Cracken turned left and walked further aft into the ship as he spoke. "Off the cuff, her engines and internal systems have all been highly modified. She'll have upgraded armor plating, weapons, sensors, and sensor jammers." Cracked made another left into a large room and stopped. "Don't let her rough exterior fool you. That's part of her disguise."

"And her charm," Han replied.

Cracken slapped Han on the back enthusiastically. "I _knew_ you were the man for this job," he said with a broad smile. "I couldn't see turning her over to anyone that wouldn't appreciate her, like your comrade back there." Cracken hitched his thumb back from where they had come, indicating Madine.

"Like you said," Han started as he walked deeper into the room and began to study the equipment. "Madine's not spacer. He'd never understand."

"Those hatches in the flooring are escape pods. We moved them from the docking rings. There's five of 'em. Overkill for her normal accompaniment, but she's likely to see a fair amount of rescue missions, so they're certain to come in handy."

"What's with this hyperdrive?" Han asked, bending down and studying the cylindrical compartment.

"_That's_ her heart. The main reason that makes her special," Cracken replied as he joined Han. "I got her from a technical genius, although some called him mad, out in the Corporate Sector. That's a Class 0.5 hypderdrive, twice as fast as any warship. The old man explained his theory, but you'd have to talk to him if you really want to understand it."

"Vandangante," Han replied wistfully.

"That's the one."

"He's not mad, no. He's definitely a genius," Han said absently while he studied the souped-up hypderdrive.

"I've been trying to improve his design. Cut down on the start-up sequence," Cracken said.

"You can start with the power core."

"I haven't had time to toy much with the idea. I'm already over-budget and behind schedule."

"If she's got a Quadex, I could streamline that sequence with just a few calculations and some elbow grease."

"Unfortunately right now your elbow grease still belongs to Madine. Part of our deal was that I'd wait for you until that squadron is up in the skies."

"I'd be willing to work off the clock. If you don't mind someone under your shoe soles."

"Wouldn't mind at all," Cracken grinned and Han thought he heard footfalls coming up the boarding ramp. "It wouldn't feel right turning my baby over to a stranger."

Certain now that someone was coming around the corridor, Han pulled his holdout blaster from the small of his back and moved the Colonel out of the line of fire. It all happened on pure instinct and before Cracken could protest, Han found his blaster pointed right into the surprised face of an attractive young woman.


	25. Chapter 25

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

"Sorry I'm late, Airen," the young woman said coolly. "But don't you think you're taking my reprimand just a little too far?"

Han held his hand steady, not ready yet to lower the weapon until Cracken verified that he knew this woman, although he did thumb the device to stun as he waited.

"Well, _seeing_ your infamous reflexes firsthand is certainly more convincing than reading about them in your files," Cracken muttered. "At ease, soldier. This is one young lady that you don't want on your bad side," he added as he lowered Han's hand with his own.

Han lowered his weapon but his eyes were still trained on the interloper.

"Sergeant Natalia Denal, procurement and supplies officer for my regiment," Cracken introduced her. "Natalia, this is Commander Solo, Captain of this scow."

The pair nodded at each other as they were introduced. Meanwhile, as he tucked his blaster back in the small of his back, Han decided that he really liked the sound of being called 'captain'. And while he was at it, little-miss-supply-officer wasn't too bad to look at.

Sergeant Denal held Han's gaze for a long moment and then turned to her superior officer. "I've got a lead on those new shield lenses and tractor beam. The rest of the supplies for the sensors and deflector emitters are outside on a hover cart."

"Wonderful. Great work," Cracken replied.

"I'm to remind you that you have dinner plans this evening, as well."

"Ah, Josta's secret weapon," Cracken said, shaking his finger at her and then glancing at his chrono. "I haven't quite finished the tour and Solo here needs a lift back to the Naval yards."

Han moved to protest, but Natalia cut him off, "I'll show him around and ensure the Navy gets him back in one piece."

"That's settled then," Cracken announced as he stuck his hand out to Han. "Solo, I look forward to working with you. Within the next few days we should get together and discuss logistics for the job. I know you have accepted in theory, but I'd like to work over the details and ensure we're on the same page."

"I'm at your disposal," Han replied.

"I'll find some time on your calendar, sir," Natalia offered and with that the Colonel said his farewells.

There was a short moment of awkwardness when Han and Natalia found themselves alone in the ship. But Natalia was the first to break the silence. "How much has Airen shown you?" She asked, the ship's dim lighting shimmering against her blue eyes.

"This is about as far as we got," Han replied.

"Well, then, looks like I get to give you the grand tour," she said smiling and Han wondered how her blonde hair might look when she let it out of that tight bun.

"So, by its original design this would've been the main cargo bay. We removed the cargo lift to make room for the escape pods right below those hatches." She indicated the floor hatches that Cracken had already shown him. "All along this back bulkhead would be the sublight engines. You'll find that, wherever possible, most of the ship's major systems can be accessed through the cockpit or this engineering station. This was all part of the project to modify this from a six-manned spacecraft to a two-crewer. It also cuts down on expenses."

She moved further into the room and walked towards an opening to the left. Han took turns studying the ship and studying her from behind. "So, you hold the purse strings around here?" He asked, trying to sound glib.

She turned to face him with amusement dancing in her eyes. "I do. And not only for this project. I'll be signing off on your expense reports once you're part of the team."

"Just who else is on this team?"

"Most never know each other," she said. "You'll probably work with no one beyond your copilot, Colonel Cracken and me."

"Who do they have in mind as copilot?"

She had walked a bit further into the adjoining room but spun around at his words. "I believe you'll have quite a bit of influence on the selection, but I haven't heard any names floating around yet." She turned back to the small room she had walked toward. "This was the number three cargo hold. We've fashioned some additional access grids in here for troubleshooting, but it'll also double as a medical station and guest quarters. There's a portable bacta tank, a cryogenic hibernation capsule and a navy field-class medical station."

Han peeked his head in. "I'll be more comfortable with my arms elbow deep in the ship's innards than in anyone else's. But I've got enough field medical training to work all this equipment," he said as he looked around.

"Good," she replied as she brushed past him and headed back to the ringed corridor with Han on her heels. "All of the electronics have been properly grounded and pulse-shielded, mechanicals shock-mounted, cables bundled and tagged, and other parts documented and labeled," she said as she walked along the corridor and pointed at all of the exposed wiring and cables.

"Have you been working on all of this with Cracken?" He asked, genuinely interested.

"Some of the less technical things, yes. Although I've learned a great deal since we acquired her. Mostly I deal in aesthetics and supplies," she added as she came to a stop and turned toward Han. "In the original design this was either crew's quarters or additional holds. Now it has your power converters and upgraded shield generators. Between the duralloy plating and these advanced Kuat Drive Yards, Novaldex, and Nordoxicon shield generators, you've got warship-grade shielding here. I've got a new set of high-grade sensor suites waiting outside that'll be tied into the ship's over-sized rectenna sensor dish to go along with the already installed sensor jammers."

"I feel like I'm dreaming," Han whispered as he stared at all of the shiny new upgrades that she was already calling his.

"It gets better," she said somewhat teasingly. She seemed to be enjoying his enjoyment. Before he could ask her to elaborate she began to open several storage lockers that lined the bulkhead between this hold and the one they had just left. "The ship also carries several sets of various military uniforms, scout trooper and spacetrooper armor," she explained as each compartment was left opened for him to see. "Several EV suits, a large selection of weapons, devices to create aliases and false identifications for the ship and its crew to go along with the variety of transponder codes already programmed into the ship. _And_," she said while opening the last compartment. "Roughly half a million credits to be used at your discretion but _filed_ and expensed accordingly, of course."

"Of course. I keep waiting for the punch line," Han breathed out as his eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets.

"You're a lucky guy, Solo," she said as she began to close the compartments. "There's a lot of good men out there that don't even know how close they came to getting all of this. But that's so much for the better, I think," she said as she finished. "Imagine knowing you missed out on this opportunity by one wrong flight sim or one loused up assignment."

"Yeah," Han agreed and wondered if she knew who all those other poor saps were.

"Back this way is the lounge," she said as she continued down the corridor. "There's another bunk right above the seating over there. The technical station, access to the top hatch and airlock over there and access to the quad laser turrets and power core through there, although you can man the quad lasers from the cockpit, if necessary." She didn't waste much time in the lounge as she walked further toward the bow of the ship and around the curved seating area. "Around this way you've got a small galley and the freight loading doors. In place of yet another cargo hold, we've fashioned two ample-sized, crew's quarters with a head in the middle and quick access to the cockpit corridor."

"Through there?" Han indicated the small hatchway with a tilt of his chin.

"Yeah. Anxious to slide into the captain's chair, Captain?" Natalia asked.

"You could say that," Han replied as he brushed past her, taking the lead for the first time since she had arrived.

He was already sitting in the captain's chair when she walked in quietly behind him. His eyes and his fingers were raking over the instrumentation panel which seemed as eager to begin its startup sequence as Han was.

"Uh, there are some hidden compartments under the decking where you first walked in." She walked up behind him and pointed to a few switches on the console. "Those were installed along with the ventrally mounted, concealed, anti-personnel repeating blaster cannon near the loading ramp."

Han whistled his approval.

"Also _highly illegal_," she continued, "are a pair of Arakyd ST2 concussion missile launchers mounted between the forward mandibles, controlled right here."

Han's finger caressed the knobs and buttons as she pointed them out.

"Behind you is the navicomputer," she said, her voice trailing off as she finished.

Han's mind was already a million parsecs away, flying this ship, _his_ ship, through the great expanse of space. Natalia, for her part, seemed to recognize a man rapt with awe as she whispered something about hauling the supplies in and giving him a moment to himself.

Alone now in the cockpit, Han wrapped his fingers around the control yoke and shut his eyes. He wasn't a very religious man, but deep in the recesses of his mind he thought that if there was an all-powerful being in the universe dispersing justice and divine benevolence, somewhere along the way Han must've done something right and today was the payout for it.

This day, he would always remember, as the day all of his dreams came true.


	26. Chapter 26

It is Your Destiny

_Coruscant (Several Weeks Later)_

There was something going on with Han Solo. Leia Skywalker was sure of it. Although unable to put her finger on it, he had been acting strangely for several weeks now. He seemed less ornery, more relaxed and maybe even…happy.

Millions of possibilities had flitted through her overactive mind. Perhaps he had gotten a new role and no longer had that uncertain future hanging over his head. Maybe he was sincerely happy that the initial test flights on the prototypes had been so successful. She even wondered if he had won the galactic lottery or some big Sabacc tournament or something. But never once had she thought of the simplest of explanations. How could she have ever suspected that most common ailment that would put a spring into a man's step? It had never really occurred to her until her brother innocently mentioned it in passing.

"_I think Han's got a girlfriend." _Luke had said. Never had so few words had such a profound impact on the young Jedi. She was immediately shocked and embarrassed at her own reaction. Who was she to feel possessive over a man that she barely even knew? Well, that wasn't entirely true. She knew him well enough. They'd been working together for over a year now. And she had thought that their 'relationship' had been moving somewhere. Of course, when you start off with one party completely loathing the other one, it doesn't take much to note some forward progress in the relationship.

Relationship. _Ha!_ What did she even know about relationships? And men? Nothing, that's what. She was so out of her element around Han Solo that it was laughable. He could quote statistics from an X-wing flight manual in a certain pitch and her insides would turn to mush, followed quickly by a mortifying rash of embarrassment that not even the Force could prevent. And the longer they knew each other, and the older she got – for she was twenty now – the more Han seemed to enjoy exposing that little weakness.

She had considered his flirting as an indication of his attraction to her, and its increasing frequency a sign of his growing feelings. But perhaps it had been just that, flirting. It wasn't as if he didn't flirt with other women. She had seen him turn on his charms for other women around the base. Of course, she always thought that he had been doing that to annoy her. Which led to another issue in her line of thinking.

Somehow, recently, she had begun to turn his every action around to something that pertained to her. If he did something particularly selfless or impressive for the project, he had done it for her benefit. If he said something sarcastic or infuriating, it had been to get a rise out of her. If he looked at her, if he didn't look at her, if he was late to a meeting, if he was early, it was all by design in some way to draw her attention to him.

Leia shook her head and looked down at the datapad in front of her. _You've officially lost it. _Here she was sitting in a very important meeting and every single one of her brain cells was laser focused on the one thing they shouldn't be. _That damned message!_ It had her all screwed up. If Han was just another man, just another coworker on this project, she wouldn't be having all these jumbled up feelings for him. Would she?

She found herself looking, perhaps staring, at him again. He was speaking. About what? She didn't know. Another problem. She was supposed to be tuned into this meeting. Not worrying about where or who he had slept with last night. He turned his focus toward her and she looked away. _Definitely losing it_.

"…logistics, such as the use of our hangars and repair techs and droids," Ackbar was saying. Leia's eyes tracked toward him, comfortably resting on the goggle-eyed Admiral, relieved to find someplace safe to stare.

"A partnership where the Republic Navy shares their resources but doesn't get anything in return," Madine added.

"You've just described the Jedi code at its most basic," Master Kenobi patiently replied.

"It all sounds great in theory, but it'll end with us sitting at opposites sides of this table in more ways than one," Madine said.

"It doesn't even sound great in theory. A squadron _we_ trained and developed using technology and resources at _our_ expense, that isn't connected to us in any way. It's a recipe for disaster," Han said.

"We are connected by our common goals and purpose…for now. Unfortunately, as the government's purposes and goals tend to sway over time, the Jedi's does not. During those times, we will not be held to compromise our principles over a few credits," Kenobi replied.

Leia hadn't said much of anything yet in this meeting. It was difficult for her to decide on the right words for what she wanted to say. In some ways, she agreed with Han and Ackbar and Madine. The entire time this project had been under development, the final dispersal of this squadron had sat in the back of the room like the proverbial bantha. No one wanted to address it and everyone was more comfortable with pretending that it would suddenly decide to up and leave on its own.

But now here they were, in the final stages of the project and all these little details had to be worked out. Everyone knew that a squadron of Jedi probably shouldn't be in the hands of any government. It could be considered a 'super weapon' of sorts. But the Jedi weren't equipped to maintain all of that equipment, they didn't have the solvency to build hangars, hire mechanics and buy repair droids. And why should they do all of that when the Republic had plenty of those resources right at their fingertips?

But everything came at a price. And it was easy to say in times of peace that the Republic would give without expecting anything in return. But the very first instance that the Republic found themselves on their heels, they would be calling in that favor. And who could blame them? But the Jedi couldn't always guarantee that aiding the Republic would be the 'right' thing to do. And they didn't want to lose that choice. The choice to do what was right.

The argument had moved onto the issue of leadership. A much more personal topic than logistics and supplies, tempers had instantly flared. Leia, along with probably everybody else in the room, knew that Han Solo had been brought to the Republic with a promise to lead this squad. It was probably for that reason that after every other Republic representative had argued their point, it was only Han's off the cuff comment that had garnered a sharp response from her brother.

"And who would make a better choice? _You?_"

"You said it, not me," Han replied. For a moment there was a silent standoff, until Han leaned forward and added, "Look, I have nothing against General Kenobi."

"I am not a General any longer," Obi Wan corrected Han.

Han stared at him for an instant. "Maybe _that's _what I have a problem with."

"Please, everyone," Madine replied. "With rumors of an Imperial uprising, it really does us no good to fight amongst ourselves. From the way I see it, what we have here is a simple partnership agreement. Let's outline the terms and _negotiate_ from there."

"This squadron will be led by a Jedi Master, that term is non-negotiable," Mace Windu stated.

"Duly noted," Madine replied.

And the meeting continued, perhaps a tad more civilly, from there.


	27. Chapter 27

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

"You look beautiful, Leia."

"I feel," Leia replied as she turned toward the full-length mirror and ran her hands down the sides of her silky dress, "out of my element."

Winter laughed as she came behind Leia and fiddled with one of her braids. "It wouldn't kill you to get of your element more often, I'd venture."

"Kill me? No. Aggravate me to no end? Yes. My tolerance is awfully low when it comes to needless displays of extravagance."

"Then perhaps politics isn't your calling after all," Winter observed. "And since when is recognizing our military needless?"

The pair was getting dressed for the annual military ball. "It's not," Leia sighed, defeated. "I'm just nervous, I guess."

"Because Commander Solo will be there?"

Leia eyed Winter sardonically. "Sometimes I wish I would've never heard that message. More often than that, I wish _you_ hadn't heard it."

Winter laughed. "You and your husband-to-be not seeing eye-to-eye?"

"There's at least thirty centims between us, I doubt we'll ever see eye-to-eye."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

Winter didn't respond but instead waited patiently for Leia to elaborate. On any other occasion, with most anyone else, Leia would never be the first to crack. But this time she did.

"He's infuriating," she said.

Winter nodded in understanding and Leia tried to ignore the amused smirk on her friend's lips so apparent through the reflection in the mirror.

Leia turned from the mirror to face her friend. "He questions everyone…_everything_. He has no regard for rank or protocol. His opinion of himself is boundless and…"

"And what?"

"He's quite often right," she said with a mixture of annoyance and admiration. "You would think by his remarks that he has no moral compass whatever, yet, in the end…" She stopped. "He makes me question _everything_ and as frustrating and scary as that is…it's somehow exactly what I need."

"That sounds similar to the warning you got from your future self."

"That's just it. That message. It makes me think of him in ways that I know I shouldn't…" She blushed and turned away. "Not yet anyway." Slipping her shoes on, she found Winter's reflection in the mirror once again. "It makes me feel as if I know how he feels for me, that I know how I feel for him when we've barely interacted beyond a professional level."

"Your situation is _complicated_, but not impossible." Winter surveyed Leia as her outfit was completed. "The important thing is that you do see him as someone who deserves your respect. And perhaps maybe this evening you can transcend that professional relationship by a degree."

"I don't think he's sees me as anything more than a Jedi. And we both know how he feels about them."

"Believe me," Winter stated, placing her hands on Leia's exposed shoulders and joining her to look in the mirror. "When he sees you in this dress, the Force will be the last thing on his mind."

* * *

><p>Leia couldn't recall how Winter had talked her into wearing this dress. It had no straps! Who in their right mind walked around with absolutely nothing holding their garments up? Leia just didn't understand fashion. Her mother would be appalled at her assessment of high couture. It was only because weapons were not allowed that Leia hadn't had to find someplace to shove her lightsaber underneath this form-fitting fabric. <em>Thank the goddess for small favors<em>.

It wasn't often that she thought of herself as being a woman. That sounded funny, she knew. But it was true. She saw herself as a Jedi, a pilot, a someday politician, a daughter, a sister, anything but some alluring, she-woman that had to dress oddly and smell flowery to call attention to the opposite sex. Of which, she had no desire to call herself attention to! Not even Han Solo, who was already present and accounted for this evening.

Originally, she had thought this might be a nice place to break the barrier of their friendship. But the entire charade had only infuriated her. She wanted him to notice her in the cockpit of an X-wing, or across a conference room table. If this was the perception of her that attracted him, she would be setting them both up for a disappointment. She absolutely hated dressing like this and she despised dancing.

And all of this, her sour thoughts and bad mood, had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Han had yet to notice her. Or ask her to dance. Although several other young women had had that pleasure a few times over. But who was counting?

Wedge Antilles had been keeping her company while Winter danced with Tycho Celchu. At least Wedge seemed to be about as miserable as she was. She guessed it would only take about forty more Rogue Squadron stories before she could finally bow out and leave.

"Does anyone have the next dance?"

Leia hadn't even seen him make his way over. But, sure enough, when she turned around she found Han Solo looking down at her. She looked to Wedge as if for permission. Wedge made a strange face and gave her a noncommittal shrug.

"No, I'm free for the next dance, Commander," she replied. She had been on the dance floor already. A few times with Wedge. A dance here and there with some other pilots she knew.

"I think this one's winding down, wanna make our way over?"

Han was standing there with his hand extended for her to take. The song that was currently playing had a quick tempo and most couples were dancing separately. She was mildly disappointed that this was the sort of song that Solo would ask her to dance to. "You're not even sure what the next song will be," she replied, glancing at his hand but not taking it.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure I can dance to it."

She could hear the hidden challenge in his words: _Can you?_ Everything with this man was a competition; she had learned that much about him. He was accustomed to winning, she knew that too. Of course, no one pulled off cocky as well as he did without knowing a thing or two. She placed her hand in his. "Fine," she replied as he pulled her delicately to her feet.

By the time they made their way to the dance floor the song had changed. Much to Leia's surprise the tempo had slowed tremendously and the lights on the dance floor faded to a dim shimmer. Han brought her around in his arms so that they were facing each other. He placed one hand on her lower back, she rested a hand on his shoulder, the two hands that had been clasped together remained so and they began to sway leisurely to the music.

She listened to the words of the song that was playing. It was about finally finding your one and only. She wondered at the coincidence that this was the song that was played for them and then wondered if Han was hearing the words at all. They danced together smoothly, their bodies a safe distance apart. Wedge Antilles had held her closer. She had no trouble following Han's lead. She looked up to find him looking at her.

"Are you alright?" He asked, snapping her out of her revelry.

"Yes, why?" She replied.

"You seem light-years away."

"Well, I'm right here."

"I can most definitely see that you are," he said lifting his eyebrows and sporting a wolfish grin. As she rolled her eyes at him in return, he sobered slightly and said, "But I'd pay a credit for your thoughts."

"A credit? Is that how much my thoughts would be worth to you?"

"Name the price. I wasn't tryin' to insult."

"They're not for sale."

Han gave his eyes an easy roll and looked over her head, glancing at the crowd. "That's what I thought."

They danced quietly for a few more turns before she said, "Regardless of how the meeting ended yesterday, I thought that you had made several good points."

"Good points," he nodded. "That's exactly what I was going for."

"You can't see the danger of the Jedi being under the control of the Republic?"

"It's _not_ the Jedi. You talk as if that little squadron is the whole of the Jedi Order." She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued, "And it surprises me how you all act as if the Jedi wouldn't have minds of their own under a civilian superior officer. Even non-Force sensitives know enough to question authority when they see fit."

"But that's part of the problem, Commander. There are times when an officer needs to follow orders he might not understand. Follow them blindly and without question and…" She shook her head. "And we can't ask our Jedi to do that for anyone except a Master."

"_I've_ never followed orders blindly _or_ without question and it scares me to hear you say that you think a Jedi should, even from a Master."

She could feel the emotions rolling off of him and he looked down at her with his jaw clenched. She didn't want to argue, mostly because there were in the middle of the dance floor, but also because she couldn't find a strong angle for a solid rebuttal. She had agreed with several of his opinions the day before. Why was that so hard to admit? "Maybe _blindly_ wasn't the right choice of words," she conceded. "Why don't we find a more _pleasant_ subje-"

"I think the Jedi shouldn't shun the Republic for the sake of appearances," he said, pulling her closer while ignoring her request for pleasantries. "You can bet if there's a Sith out there starting to flex his muscles, he won't be turning his nose up at any military aid he can garner."

She stiffened. The possibility of a Sith Lord was still not yet public knowledge.

"Don't worry, it was just a hunch," he said evenly, loosening his grip on her. Obviously pleased to have his suspicions confirmed by her response.

"One would have to wonder where you get your hunches from, Commander."

"It really wasn't that difficult to figure out. Nothing gets you Jedi all riled up more than a Sith Lord."

"Perhaps we're concerned about the threatening civil war with the Imperials."

"Nah," he said confidently. "Political wars don't concern the Jedi, at least not until all of humanity becomes threatened by them."

Leia looked up at him.

"At least that's what I think you guys have been preaching to me since I got here."

"Yes, that's right," she said coolly. Why did everything that came out of his mouth sound condescending and arrogant? Even while quoting the Jedi code?

The song was coming to an end and some couples began to break apart. Han stopped dancing and stood there for a moment. She waited for him to say something. He seemed to waiting for the same thing. _Damn him! _"Thank you, Commander," she finally said, her tone frosty as she began to turn away.

He grabbed her arm. "Hey, wait a minute."

She turned back to face him. A new song had begun to play.

"Maybe we should try starting over."

She said nothing and he gently pulled her to him, not even waiting for her reply. At first she was indignant, but unlike the previous dance where he had kept her at a distance, this time he held her close – as close as propriety would say was decent and maybe just a sliver closer than that. She found herself totally set off balance by his proximity, by his handling of her, yet she couldn't find it in her to argue or protest.

They danced for a while without talking. It was very nice…when they didn't talk. This time the song was about a more passionate love and it was sung by a male. It was all about succumbing to desire and once again Leia wondered if he even heard the words. This close to him she could smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek. She couldn't remember why she thought she hated to dance.

"You think I still have a thing against the Jedi," his voice rumbled in her ear but she could detect no lingering hint of the irritation from earlier.

"You're entitled to your opinions. I would never begrudge anyone that."

He chuckled while he spun her around with him, the move bringing them a sliver closer, her breasts now pressing against him. "You had an opinion of me when we first met, I'm sure. I'm also sure that it's changed some since then. Maybe some for the worse, but hopefully more for the better."

"I guess you could say that."

"I _am_ saying that," he stated and then leaning closer to her, he whispered, "and I'm saying my opinions may have been similarly altered."

"For just me or for all Jedi?"

He drew back and smiled at her. "For your brother, for one," he said. "Kenobi, even though he's a damned, old fool. And a few of the pilots that I've met for the squadron seem alright," he added, nodding his head. "They're a good group, overall…for a bunch of Jedi."

She waited.

"And you," he finally added as the song was coming to an end, his eyes raking down her body causing her face and neck to warm with embarrassment. "Of course, if I'd seen you in this dress a little earlier, things may have gone a whole lot smoother between us."

A wave of furious indignation swept up her body from her toes to her scalp and she took a step out of his arms. "Seeing anything of me _a little earlier_ may have landed you in prison, Commander."

He chuckled in amusement and she felt that her attempt at teasing him about his age had miserably backfired on her.

"Okay, well," he said as he came to a stop. "Thanks for the dances."

* * *

><p>The rest of her evening went much the same as how it had started. Leia didn't think things could've gotten much worse, until at the end of the night when she had to bear witness to Han Solo leading the busty blond from Cracken's group out the door with his hand resting comfortably on her lower back. Of course, it could all be perfectly innocent…<em>and bantha's might fly<em>.

It was nothing of her concern anyway, really.

Nothing at all.

Leia took a deep, cleansing breath. Something told her that tonight might be a good night to practice her Jedi relaxation techniques…


	28. Chapter 28

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

The banging on the hull was what finally woke him. He had to climb over the warm body snuggled next to him in order to get out of his bunk. His movements were met with an incoherent, "Hmph?"

"It's nothin'," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."

His head throbbed. Too many whiskeys the night before while hitting all of the after-parties. He slipped his discarded pants on, his stomach lurching at the dank smell of smoke that permeated their fibers. Another bang on the hull and he forewent trying to find his shirt. As soon as the captain's quarters had been outfitted, he had taken to sleeping on the old freighter. Especially when he ended up entertaining. It was much more private than his officer's apartment.

He lowered the ramp, bare-footed and bare-chested, and was surprised to find Crix Madine waiting impatiently on the hangar floor carrying something in his hands and looking sour and impatient.

"You look like hell, Solo," Crix stated flatly as he moved up the walkway and entered the ship without being invited.

Han had to remind himself that it wasn't his ship…yet. He reminded himself also that behavior of this nature would not be tolerated once he was officially the captain of this vessel.

"You do remember there was an officer's ball last night, right?" Han said, following closely behind him and running his fingers through his unkempt hair. "You must, I know that I saw you there."

Crix set whatever he had been holding down on the holochess table and looked at Han. "The ball officially ended at oh-one-hundred. That was over _eight_ standard hours ago."

"Yeah, well," Han reaplied as he slid onto the banquette. "_Unofficially_ it only ended about an hour or so ago."

Han heard his cabin door slide shut, found Madine looking at him pointedly. Han just looked back at him, one eyebrow hitching up challengingly.

"Company?" Madine asked.

"Unofficially," Han said as he shrugged his shoulders and began to thumb through the datacards, which was what Madine had put on the table. A whole bunch of datacards with names on each one. "What's all this?"

"Those are files on some of our very best operatives. Each having, among other things, no fewer than eleven hundred hours of flight time logged on our simulators and at least twenty hours of real action."

Han immediately realized that one of these men was to be his copilot. He hadn't entertained the thought that he would be given much of a choice in the matter. Still feigning ignorance, he asked, "So?"

"So, you are to review their files and choose your partner." Madine looked around the battered bulkhead of the ship. "Or copilot, as it were."

It was true that wires still hung everywhere and even in powered down mode, alarms still glowed in all their red fury. But Han knew where every wire went and what each alarm was for. In them he only saw another project, maybe a few challenges, but nothing to turn a distasteful eye on. Han could tell by the look on Madine's face that he only saw what everyone else saw: a piece of junk.

Han looked down at the datacards again. Somewhere among these names could there be someone else who would see this freighter the way that he did? He found it very doubtful and sharing this ship with someone who would treat it as nothing more than a hindrance didn't set well with him at all.

"Excuse me," a female voice whispered. Han looked over to find his overnight guest standing sheepishly in the corridor, last night's evening gown looking more than just slightly out of context.

"Pardon _me_, Officer Denal," Madine replied, stepping back to allow her to pass.

Natalia Denal, Cracken's supply officer, shot Han a hot look as she brushed past Madine. It wasn't his fault that he got an early visitor. He wondered why she hadn't tried to wait Madine out, or leave through the cockpit corridor. Maybe she had someplace to go. _Not my problem, either_. Although, with this ship, pissing off the supply officer wasn't such a great idea. Why hadn't he thought of that before he started sleeping with her?

"See ya later, Nat," Han offered as she continued to walk by.

"Later, Solo." She made it sound like a threat. _Women_.

* * *

><p>After Madine left, Han read over the datacards until his eyes crossed with fatigue. Stomach growling, head still hurting from his self-induced dehydration, Han stood from the small table and headed for the galley. None of those names seemed right. None of them <em>felt<em> right. Han had always had a fairly trustworthy gut and his gut was telling him that his copilot wouldn't be found in those datacards. He opened a high-protein drink and gulped it down, wiping his mouth when he was done. He wondered how mad Natalia was going to be at him. He still wanted those upgraded concussion missiles.

He had had half a mind last night to ask Leia Skywalker to go out with him after the dance. If he had done that, Nat wouldn't have been there this morning and he wouldn't be in this predicament. But he also would've woken up alone and with an endless stint in space bearing down on him, he really shouldn't be passing up any opportunities for female companionship. He wasn't a fan of one-night stands and he never paid for his pleasures, at least not those that came from between the sheets, so Nat had been a welcomed find during his time here on Coruscant. She was discreet and she wasn't looking for a husband, two very desirable characteristics in a woman for Han at this point in his life.

Still, thoughts of the Skywalker girl had taken an unexpected turn last night. He had seen her in a flight suit so he knew she had a nice body, but seeing it in that dress had been a different matter altogether. Due to their height difference he had had a nice vantage point down the front of her dress. As much as he tried to keep his eyes focused anywhere that wouldn't earn him a right hook to his jaw, they seemed to gravitate to that delectable cleft of skin, so white Han wasn't sure if it had ever seen the light of day before that evening.

There had been a small freckle; he was more inclined to call it a beauty mark, peeking out from the fabric of Leia's dress on the tantalizing swell of flesh that was her left breast. When he shut his eyes he could still see it, half-hidden, half-revealed, taunting him. Why was it that something that was hidden immediately became more tempting than that which was not? The entire evening he had spent with Natalia, where nothing had been hidden whatsoever, in his mind's eye he kept seeing that beauty mark. Like a bright light that stays burned on your retina. What would it look like totally revealed to him? What would it taste like under his tongue?

Han took another swig of his drink and set it back in the refrigeration unit.

Entertaining those kinds of thoughts about Leia Skywalker was not one of his brighter ideas. It wasn't as if he had never noticed her before, he had even begun to tease her about it. But he had actually worked hard at trying _not_ to think of her in that way. For one thing, she was a Jedi. And if Han thought that being in trouble with a supply officer was dangerous, he was sure it wouldn't compare to being on the wrong side of a Jedi. And for another, she was Luke's sister and Luke was his friend. Ex-girlfriends and sisters of friends were off-limits. It was one of those unwritten rules. Now, girlfriends and mothers of friends? _That_ rule was actually written, somewhere.

Han made his way back to his bunk and plopped his tired body down into it, draping his arm over his eyes. Who was he trying to kid? All last night while he and Natalia had hit the after parties, he had kicked himself for not asking Leia. He couldn't help but wonder what she might be like outside of a simulation unit or out from behind a conference room table. Even though he fully expected her to shoot him down if he had offered. Even though he didn't expect that it would've gone anywhere if she had, by some miracle, agreed. And even though he probably wouldn't even had gotten a kiss at the door. That didn't stop him from thinking about it. And just thinking about the possibility of a kiss from those lips. That had been enough.

From the day he had met Leia Skywalker, he had gotten strange vibes from her. Initially he had chalked it up to that Force thing, but with his recent increased exposure to Jedi, he knew that that wasn't it. There was something unusual that he felt from her. Han considered himself fairly adept at recognizing a woman's interest, that's what had landed Natalia in his bunk. But this was different. It was as if she looked at him the way that he had looked at this ship, like she saw his _potential_ and not just him. Potential for what? Now _that's_ what puzzled him.


	29. Chapter 29

It is Your Destiny

_Coruscant – A Few Months Later (1.5 ABY)_

Leia Skywalker walked along the streets of Coruscant alone. She had just shared a dinner with the Organas and had declined their offer for a ride back to the Jedi Temple. Usually she found a long walk to be peaceful, a time for reflection. But this walk was different. She felt her father's presence blister strongly through the Force sometime during her meal. He had to be on-planet for her to feel him this way and whatever had brought him here, he was not happy.

Leia sighed. It would do no good to pretend that she didn't know why he was on planet, or what had made him unhappy. Of course she knew. Only she, her brother or her mother could get Anakin Skywalker so upset. But she truly didn't understand his anger. Even after the endless conversations they had shared over the holo about her options, she hadn't expected him to react this way.

Over the past six months Leia had all but discontinued shadowing Bail and Winter Organa in the Senate, opting instead to focus all of her efforts on the new Jedi Stealth Squadron. Tensions between the Imperials and the Republic had quickly mounted over the past several months and had finally come to their culmination when none of the Grand Moffs had bothered to come to the Senatorial sessions. The Imperials were declaring their independence from the Republic and all of the repercussions of that had yet to fully be understood.

Almost immediately after the stunt by the Imperials, Leia had finally officially joined the Stealth Squadron. Ironically enough, she was then immediately pulled off of the squad to organize a diplomatic mission with Bail Organa to Imperial space. She and the Viceroy were to fly to Byss and try and prevent a war. Their official task was to attend a meeting of the Moff Council and hear the Imperials' demands and gripes. Unofficially, they were to research the rumors that the Imperials were organizing a strike against the Republic and perhaps cutlivating an alliance with the emerging Sith.

Leia's mind had been laser-focused on her upcoming mission. That was, until her father had arrived.

* * *

><p>Finally reaching the Temple, Leia walked through the winding corridors toward her room. The emotion emanating off of her father guided her like a navicomputer. Many would cower away from a confrontation with Anakin Skywalker. Leia looked forward to it. She'd rather have everything out in the open.<p>

She entered her room, found her father standing with his back to her looking out of her small window. She signaled the door shut behind her and stood waiting.

After a long while, he turned to face her. His eyes slowly studied her, as if he didn't recognize the person standing before him. "Where've you been?" He asked.

Her first instinct was to remind him of how old she was and just whose business it was where she had been, but she bit down on it. Instead she said, "With the Organas."

He didn't respond.

She took a step closer, throwing her shawl on the small table. "Have you come to change my mind?"

"No," he replied quickly. "To _understand_ your mind, perhaps."

She lifted her chin. "I let the Force guide my mind…my choices. I belong in that squadron." She considered for a moment telling him about her mission with Bail Organa. But it wasn't in her place to tell him and it still didn't change what her ultimate decision had been.

His eyes softened and for the first time, he looked like her father as she remembered him. "You were happy with what you were doing," he said softly, sadly.

She shook her head. "But it's not all about my happiness."

"That's all it's ever been about for me."

"I know that. But in times of war-"

"_War?" _He spit back, incredulously. "We aren't at war yet, Leia, and I fail to see how we can declare war on nothing more than a rumor."

"It's a little more than a rumor now, Father. The Moffs have refused to recognize the Senate as their governing body. And I think you know that we wouldn't go to war over a rumor. Plans are already being developed to address the Imperials concerns, to hopefully prevent a civil war. But-"

"Is that what the _Council_ has told you?"

She straightened her shoulders. Her father's personal war with the Jedi Council aggravated her more than ever now. "The Jedi Council is not the enemy here."

"They are from where I stand. They now have both my children under their influence and are prepared to send them off to a needless war." He walked toward her. "I raised you to have a mind of your own, to see the Council for what it was, imperfections and all. You had to know that it was never my wish for my children to blindly follow anyone. If you disagree, no matter with whom, you stand up for yourself and disagree. Don't let them utilize this false threat to finally pull you in line."

"No one has pulled me in line. I have had my issues with the Jedi Council," Leia said slowly. "And I have always stood up for what I believed – had a mind of my own. But in times like these, it's a waste of energy and resources to fight against those who aren't truly our enemies. My personal goals and ambitions can be made to wait."

"Times like these?" He scoffed.

"_If_ we go to war. You always told me that when it came time to fight, you must judge people on their _actions_ and act accordingly. I will not fight against those that I merely disagree with."

"Who _will_ you fight against?"

"Those whose actions warrant it."

"And have the Imperials warranted it?"

"Are we fighting yet?"

He took a step back, regarding her. "You've always been a strong-willed child. I will not see your talent wasted in pursuit of some idealistic crusade. The Imperials will always do what the Imperials do. They are different from us, that doesn't make them wrong."

"It's only those who don't truly want peace that call it idealistic."

"You have too much of your mother in you."

"And you would do well to be more like her."

He shook his head at her. "This is a waste of time. Nothing will be decided here today. Anyway, it seems you have already chosen your side."

She looked at her father, confusion crawling across her furrowed brows. "There is no side," she whispered. "I don't feel like you and I must become enemies for me to do what I think is right. Why can't you work alongside the Council? We could really use you right now. What have you been doing? If there's something that you've been working on? Share it with me and perhaps we could work together. Help me understand how you see things. How you imagine we can tackle these problems differently."

"Problems?" Anakin replied, turning away from her and running his fingers through his hair. "A few Senators throwing a tantrum and this is what the touted Jedi High Council concerns itself with?"

"There is still the matter of a rising Sith. It wouldn't be the first time that the Imperials have harbored one."

He turned back towards her, his face softening. "Maybe what I see isn't exactly clear yet. But what I _know_ is that there's got to be another way to end all of this. To find peace without compromising our beliefs. Without chasing shadows and rumors. Without war." He hesitated. "Without sacrificing who we are."

Once again Leia found herself in an argument where she could see both sides. Having the Jedi Stealth Squadron so ingrained with the Republic military had never set well with her. But now was not the time to shun the Jedi Order. That much she was sure of. "I used to think that following the Jedi code was a sacrifice."

"And so it is," her father replied. "That hasn't changed."

"No," she agreed. "Maybe it hasn't, in some ways. But circumventing the system isn't the answer."

"_System? _There is no system. That's where you've been blinded. How long has the Council strung you along with a promise of change? How much more ingrained into the Republic do they have to become for you to see that they have lost their way? Open your eyes."

"My eyes are wide open. I see things more clearly than I want to. What kind of politician would I be if I can't lobby for change and work within the restraints of the system to bring forth revolution."

"Sometimes true revolution requires revolt."

"That is where our paths diverge. I will not tear down what is wholly good to mold it into something that is specific to my needs. We will not be here forever. We work for the small changes that matter to us and leave the big picture to slowly shift throughout several lifetimes. You changed the Jedi code-"

"But not enough!"

"Tell me, then. What will be enough?"

He shook his head. "I'll know when I see it."

For the first time in her life she was truly scared. Not of her father, but for him. "I think somewhere along the way," she said. "You lost your way. I think your issue with the Council has taken on a life of its own. Maybe if you could go back and meditate on it, you might find that the issue isn't even there anymore. That only your own doubts remain."

He smiled. "You're beautiful, Leia. Smart. I'll be proud of you no matter what you do."

And with that, she knew their conversation had come to an end. "Thank you," she whispered. "That will always mean a great deal to me."


	30. Chapter 30

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant – One Week Later _

Leia arrived at the track early. A good, long run always seemed to clear her head. Some people opted to listen to music while they ran, Leia preferred to utilize the quiet time to organize her thoughts and find her center. She and Bail would be leaving for Byss soon. All the plans and meetings had been arranged. The future tingled with anticipation and danger. Leia felt fearful of her life and the lives of those around her. It wasn't an emotion that she was used to and it wasn't one that she wanted to grow comfortable with.

As a Padawan she had traveled with her father on missions. Mostly missions of mercy and goodwill. But there were times when they had been called upon or forced to fight. She was very proficient with the lightsaber. But she remembered every single encounter, every face and story of those that she had stood against. Perhaps she was lucky that violent encounters had been few enough for her to recall them individually. There was a time when a Jedi Knight knew nothing but combat and war. She hoped that time wasn't drawing back upon them.

Her father had left Coruscant once again; their encounter upon her arrival tucked neatly behind them. He had visited with her and Luke, obviously struggling with setting his differing opinions aside. They would always be family, no matter what. That's how he had left it when they departed. The twins had no idea where he was going. He didn't make it sound as if he were going home to sit out the fight. Knowing him the way she did, she was sure that their paths would soon cross again. In the end they were on the same side, she truly believed that. And eventually they would end up fighting alongside one another instead of from across the room or galaxy.

She had lost track of time and laps when she spotted Han Solo standing near the edge of the track speaking to someone. She found it funny that she hadn't felt him approach. Thoughts of her father had been consuming her. But it was time to set all that aside and focus on the tasks she had ahead of her. however, now that she had a visual on Han Solo, focusing on her mission to Byss was easier said than done. It was all she could do to force herself not to look at him, never mind trying to stop herself from thinking about him.

She continued to vehemently curse that droid's message all those years ago - every single day. It had doomed her to think about him in a way she didn't want to. She wished she could act like she didn't know what the future might hold in store for them. She worried that she would act the wrong way knowing what she knew and ruin everything. She worried that maybe she already had.

More often than not, she doubted that he would ever think of her in that way. How could he possibly? He was so much older and more experienced. He probably looked on her like a child. How could she compete with women like Natalia Denal? They had probably already slept together. Why would he want to bother with the inexperience and trepidation of some virgin?

Her eyes found him again. No matter how hard she tried not to look at him. This time, he was looking right back at her. Her brother was gone and Solo seemed to be waiting for her. Now she would have to acknowledge him. She slowed down to a brisk walk and nodded at him as he waved her over.

Trying not to think about what she looked like, she headed his way while she took the small towel out of the waistline of her shorts and wiped her face. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen her sweaty and dressed in sweats before. In fact, it was usually the way that he had seen her. Maybe that was part of the problem. She remembered how he had looked at her in that dress. If only she wore dresses more often.

"You weren't at practice today," Han said as soon as she was within earshot.

"I've been pulled off of the squad, for now," she replied, coming to a halt in front of him.

"You just joined and they're pulling you off? Am I allowed to know why?"

"I've been put on special assignment. I'll be accompanying Bail Organa into Imperial Space."

"Trying to smooth out those ruffled political feathers?"

That was the official reason, anyway. "Yes," she replied.

"Why you?"

"I've been at the Viceroy's side during many of the sessions. I'll be less likely to be seen as a Jedi than say Master Kenobi or Master Yoda would be and without Chewbacca-"

"What happened to Chewbacca?"

Solo's concern over the Wookiee seemed out of place. She wondered if he would ever worry about her like that. "Nothing," she replied hastily. "It's just the way Imperials feel about aliens. We thought it best if Bail had a non-Wookiee bodyguard with him."

"So, now you're a bodyguard?"

Maybe that was a tinge of worry flickering across his brow. Leia bristled. For something she had thought she wanted just a millisecond ago, she took his apparent concern more as an insult than any indication of his feelings. "The Jedi have always been protectors of peace and justice in the galaxy, Commander Solo. Preventing a civil war is well within our jurisdiction of duties. And I am very well trained and capable of taking care of myself."

"Right," he said, his face turning impassive as if his mind had moved on to other things, anything but worrying about her.

Leia mentally kicked herself. _At the first sign of concern, you start spouting off the Jedi creed?_

"Well," he started. "You've got it all under control, I guess."

"Control is an illusion, Commander. I am…_prepared_."

He nodded his head, looked as if he wanted to say something else, but said, "Good luck, then. And may the Force be with you."

"Thanks," she replied. Then, second-guessing the entire conversation and trying to salvage something from the encounter, she added lightly, "I'll see you when I get back. The squad should be deploying by then."

"Right," he replied, somewhat uncomfortably. "See ya when you get back."

And with that he walked away. As Leia watched his figure fade off into the distance, his final words rang hollow in her mind. He was lying to her. Either he didn't care or didn't expect to ever see her again. And to Leia, whichever it was, really didn't matter. The result was all the same. She shook it off, turned and continued her run. Right now all of her attention needed to be focused on Byss anyway. _That_ was where her immediate destiny lied. Of that one thing, she was at least sure.


	31. Chapter 31

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant _

"I've made my choice," Han Solo stated as he dumped the stack of datacards in front of Madine. Crix sat behind his desk with Airen Cracken occupying one of his guest chairs.

"Great," Madine replied, gesturing for Han to sit next to Airen as he scooped the datacards up in his hands. "Which one is it?" He asked, sifting through the small diskettes.

"You won't find 'im in those files," Han replied and remained standing.

Airen Cracken stirred in his seat. "I thought I had made myself clear," he said, his comment directed at Madine.

"So had I," Madine countered, his comment slung at Han.

"Those guys are all cracker jack soldiers and pilots, that's for sure," Han said. "But they don't bring anything…non-tangible to the table."

"Non-tangible?" Madine asked, his immediate displeasure apparent.

"Such as?" Cracken pressed.

"I've lived on the streets. I know what it takes to blend in, to gain trust quickly, to take appropriate risks without killing myself. That's part of why you chose me for this position, if I'm not mistaken."

"Your _unique_ background and the skill set that you bring to the table, yes," Madine agreed. "But that's why you're the lead. We can't expect to find another candidate with your specific qualifications. One of these _decorated_ officers will have to suffice," he concluded snidely.

"I don't feel like I'm much of a lead when my hands are tied on a decision as important as this one." Han replied. "In fact, I'm gonna have to say that this one's a deal breaker."

Han could see the look on Madine's face. The look that said 'not again'. Madine looked more than ready to let Han walk out this time. It wasn't as if Han hadn't learned his lesson from his last foray in thumbing his nose at his military career. But this was too important. Madine threw the datacards onto the desk and flung his body back against his chair in a gesture that was a mixture of both surrender and contempt.

Cracken leaned forward and picked up a few datacards that were within his reach. "I'd be interested to hear why none of these men were acceptable to you, Solo. No matter what assumption you might've been under, it was _I_ who handpicked these particular candidates…as well as authorized the gamble that entailed choosing you as lead point on one of my teams."

"They're all fine men," Han said, turning toward Cracken. "Hell, they're all damn better officers than I'll ever be. But I don't care how you slice it. You can have 'em grow beards and wear a tiara, they're still gonna look like fine officers. Pair 'em up with me and we're gonna look like undercover operatives. And the key to being undercover, unless I'm mistaken, is to look like you aren't undercover."

Cracken stared at Han for a moment, seeming to consider his words.

"What would you have chosen as your second? A woman?" Madine countered.

Han's gaze slid angrily to Madine. "Not quite. But close," he said. "Not a different gender, but a different species."

Cracken reached over for a few more datacards, "We have at least three non-human candidates here."

"Right," Han said. "A Bothan. Who in this universe trusts a Bothan? And an Ishi-Tib? There's no way I could spend months on end in a small ship living with one of those prissy environmentalists and their taste for bad music."

"Oh, yeah. The sirens and the bells," Cracken agreed absently, still thumbing through the files, a hint of humor behind his tone. Madine shot him a look that betrayed little amusement on his part.

Han ignored Cracken's comment and continued, "And a Chadra-Fan. Nobody takes those guys seriously. C'mon."

Madine leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "Your opinions on these species maybe entertaining and colorful, to say the least, but these are your choices, so I suggest you drop your prejudices and-"

"No, wait, hold on a minute," Cracken interrupted. "Out of all the things I found with Commander Solo, both on the record and off, he is anything but prejudiced. His colorful opinions notwithstanding, and as unconventional as his observations may be, it is important that a set of operatives that will be working this closely together be matched up in more aspects than just military skill." Cracken set the datacards down and folded his hands in his lap as he looked at Han. "I suspect you have a recommendation of your own in this matter, so why don't we dispense with the un-pleasantries and hear it."

"Chewbacca," Han said the one word as if it was as well-known as 'The Emperor'. Of course, between the three men in the room and a better part of the Republic Military, Chewbacca was that well-known.

"I had no idea the Wookiee was dissatisfied with his service to the Royal Family of Alderaan _or vice versa_," Madine said evenly.

"He isn't and they aren't," Han replied. "But I have it on good authority that he isn't going to be needed for an extended period of time, so I figured we could offer him a trial run."

"You figured," Madine repeated. "I am aware that Bail Organa will be traveling to Imperial Space without his usual escorts. However, his daughter Winter and his wife will be left to keep Chewbacca and the Alderaanian guard busy," Madine replied.

"They'll both be at the palace on Alderaan, that's not Chewbacca's usual domain," Han offered.

"Let's just say, in a purely academic fashion, that Chewbacca is interested and agrees," Cracken started. "What's the point if we only have to return him once the Viceroy's mission is completed? You'll be back to this same set of datacards and personally I like to resolve issues just once, if at all possible."

"If he doesn't work out, the Viceroy returns, Chewbacca goes back to his service - no harm, no foul," Han explained. "But if he works out like I _know_ he will, then I won't be going back to these datacards, believe me."

A thoughtful silence fell in the room.

Han continued, "Look, Wookiees are a trusted and revered species throughout the galaxy. Nobody questions the word of a Wookiee for more reasons than one." He began ticking his points off on his fingertips. "Hardly anybody can correctly identify a Wookiee, sketch artists won't even entertain a request to draft a holo of one. Their language is one of the fewest understood or spoken in the galaxy and _I_ understand it…fluently. They're sharp shooters, but just as deadly empty-handed."

"And if he doesn't work out?" Cracken pressed, seemingly ignoring every one of his arguments.

"I'll work within your parameters," Han replied, his hand indicating the datacards strewn on Madine's desk. "I just want my choice to get a fair shake."

"Aren't we all forgetting something here?" Madine interjected. "The Republic Military is not in the habit of commandeering officers from our own allies' ranks. I don't think Viceroy Organa would take kindly to returning from a mission that _we_ sent him on only to find out that we've swindled his best agent right from under his nose."

"The Wookiee came to me," Han replied. "If he's looking for a change of scenery, it might as well be us that gives it to him."

"You've already _spoken_ to him?" Madine yelped.

Not really, not since that day that the Wookiee had looked him up and spun that tale to him, but these two didn't need to know those details. The fact was the Wookiee had looked him up to talk about flying a ship together; that much was true in Han's mind. "Off-the-record in a roundabout way, yes," Han replied truthfully.

"This is the sort of thing that I warned you about," Madine said to Cracken while waving a hand in Han's direction.

"Let me speak to Jeremoch," Cracken said simply.

Madine rolled his eyes and heaved a disbelieving sigh. Jeremoch Colton was Bail Organa's senior officer.

"_Off the record_," Cracken assured him. "Solo's right. If the Wookiee is looking for greener pastures, I'd like to open my gates to him."

Han's stomach tightened. He didn't want to get the Wookiee in trouble. Wookiees were much scarier than supply officers and Jedi. "Um, well, I don't know if Chewbacca has made it known that he's on the market."

"I'm certain he hasn't," Cracken countered. "Give your commanding officer some credit, Solo. Not only do I _teach_ covert reconnaissance, but I might actually know how to perform it."


	32. Chapter 32

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant (Over a week later…)_

"Well?"

Han glanced back at the old freighter looming innocuously behind him and then back at the small crowd of people he was standing amongst. His new copilot and partner, Chewbacca towered over him to his left. Natalia was standing at a respectable distance beside him to his right, patiently playing the role of coworker during this impromptu farewell party. Airen Cracken, his boss and Crix Madine, his longtime friend, completed the semicircle surrounding him. Each held a tumbler of whiskey in their hands. It had been Crix that had asked the question.

There was only one thing left to do before he and Chewie hit the skies. They had to name his ship.

Chewie roared thoughtfully and Han snapped out of his thoughts. "Alright, alright," he said.

He and Chewie had already decided on a name. It wasn't as if he had to think one up right at that moment. But naming the ship was somehow more dramatic than he had anticipated. It made everything real. He would be leaving Coruscant a captain of his own vessel. That was exciting. But he would also be leaving all of his newfound friends behind, some with good reason to have a very low opinion of him once they found out he has supposedly gone AWOL. It wasn't like Han to care about what people thought about him, but right now, in this moment, it did.

"It's a two-parter," Han finally began. "Chewie chose the first part and I chose the second."

Chewie warfled his agreement and swatted Han on the shoulder in a sign of encouragement, gratitude and respect. The pair had instantly bonded and the Wookiee ended up having the same affinity to the old ship as Han had. Of course, Chewie liked to point out that all that future mumbo jumbo stuff had somehow come true, but Han just chose to ignore all of that.

"This is a life changing event for Chewie and me," Han started. He was no good at giving speeches, but he was in no hurry to spout out the name either. His ship deserved better. His ship deserved this time of anticipation and respect. "So the first part represents an entire lifetime for a Wookiee. A millennium."

Chewie released a long, low growl and looked back at the ship.

"Chewie and I are like kindred spirits," Han said. He knew the Wookiee would like that he said it, but he also really felt that way somehow. "And we both understand what it means to fight and serve for something we believe in. But we both also like the idea of a certain freedom." Han stopped for a moment. "The second part represents the freedom that traveling the galaxy is going to bring to us. A falcon. I used to watch the bat-falcons fly through the sky traffic back on Corellia. Against all odds, they'd make it through without a scratch. That's what this ship is going to do."

All eyes went to the ship behind him. Han turned around and raised his glass up in salute. "_The Millennium Falcon_. She's flown by other names and will fly under countless more, but that will be her true identity from this day forward."

The small group downed their glasses of whiskey.

A hand clamped down on Han's shoulder. "Clear skies, Captain Solo."

Han took a moment to enjoy his new moniker and then turned around to face Crix Madine. "I've got a surprise waiting for ya back at your office, Crix," Han said. Months ago when Crix had told him about this job, Han had promised him a case of brandy if it ended up being the real deal. Han never forgot a promise.

Crix looked confused, probably having forgotten the conversation, but took it in stride. "Well, thanks in advance, I hope."

Han clapped him on the shoulder. "You're welcome in advance. Don't worry, you'll like it."

His boss, Airen Cracken, walked up next. "Keep your nose clean, Solo. This first assignment oughta be a cake walk for you. I want you to take your time getting your space legs back. You've been dirtside for far too long."

"You said it, Colonel. But I don't think I'll have a problem readjusting."

"Clear skies," Cracked replied, before shaking Han's hand and following Madine out the hangar.

When Han finally turned to face Natalia, he was surprised to find her eyes shimmering with threatening tears. No matter how casual their relationship had been, they had grown very fond of one another.

Chewbacca warbled something about privacy and ambled off toward the _Falcon_.

"Hey," Han said smoothly as he pulled Natalia into an embrace. "Is this any way to see me off?"

"It's not you," she protested weakly as she watched her fingers play with the fasteners of his shirt. Then glancing up at the ship, she said, "I'd grown very attached to her. I just don't know what I'll do with my time now that I won't be hunting down spare parts."

Han appreciated her humor and her genuine love for his ship. "No one said you have to stop hunting for spare parts. She'll still need plenty of attention."

"It won't be the same when I don't get to deliver them myself."

Her eyes met his now, all hints of humor had evaporated. Han enjoyed a moment of remembering a few of her special deliveries. He rested his hand against her cheek. "I'm sorry this hard for you. But you knew I'd be leaving someday."

"I know," she shook her head. "But it doesn't mean I have to like it. Or that I can't fall apart a little bit, does it?"

He smiled at her. "No," he said, pulling her closer. "No, it doesn't. But I don't have to leave right away and I was wondering something."

"What's that?" She asked dubiously, instantly recognizing the mischief in his face and his words.

"I was wondering if you've ever made love to a captain with his own ship?"

Her only reply was a giggle and a shake of her head in the negative. Han then lead her into the _Falcon_ and told Chewbacca to take his time getting an exit vector as the pair made their way to the captain's quarters.


	33. Chapter 33

It is Your Destiny…

_Byss (several weeks later – approximately 2 ABY)_

Leia Skywalker sat next to Bail Organa at the large round table. The room they were seated in was small by Imperial conference room standards, of which she had become a very good judge of. They had been on Byss for over a week and had yet to meet with anyone of substance. Grandiose rooms filled with nameless, propaganda spewing minions had tested her patience and diplomacy to its limits. Flying solo in an X-wing was looking more and more appealing to her by the minute.

When they had first been shown into this room, with its intimate feel and sparse décor, they had taken it as a good sign. Perhaps now they would meet with someone who could actually make a decision and not just talk about theories and principles. After a round of kaffe, an a la carte lunch, and seemingly endless idle conversation, she and Bail had drifted into a companionable silence. Each wrestling with their thoughts, she was sure. Although, Bail may have found it very surprising if he knew exactly what thoughts she had been wrestling with.

Before she had left Coruscant, Han Solo had defected, or deserted or whatever names someone might want to give to it. He had disappeared, without even saying goodbye. Of course she realized why he hadn't said goodbye. It wasn't the kind of thing people could just come up and announce. And of course she realized now that perhaps he had said his goodbye on the track that day. If Han had ever been confusing to her, it was nothing compared to this. How could she feel like a piece of her was missing, that she had had her heart broken, when absolutely nothing had happened between them?

She didn't know, but that was exactly how she felt. The burning sting of regret crawled up her throat and she swallowed it. All of the things she could've or might've said to him warred upon her very soul. In the end, she feared that she had lost the opportunity to be honest with him, to just tell him what she knew and they could figure everything out together. Now she was alone and there would be no 'together' anything. He had left her all alone and didn't even know it. That was the absolute worse part of it all.

"Ahhh, there you are."

The voice coming through the opened doorway startled Leia back into reality. She recognized Grand Moff Tarkin's voice even before her eyes fell upon him. He looked surprised to find them there, as if he had no idea they had been waiting for hours for someone to arrive and acknowledge them. She was finding it very hard to keep an open mind about Imperials.

Almost immediately her senses tilted to full alert. Since she and Bail had been on Byss, she had found no sign of any dark side energies surrounding the people or places they had visited. She had met Grand Moff Tarkin before and was familiar with his Force signature. But something was different now. His usually cool aura burned with a dark side resonance. No, Tarkin was not Force sensitive and therefore could not be the Sith Lord they were looking for, but he had been around one.

* * *

><p>"We know our principles have not always aligned. But for nearly two decades now, we've been able to nurse a delicate balance between our respective galactic views. Your representative's absence at the first session was therefore alarming," Bail was saying. Tarkin had joined her and Bail at the small table and after a few pleasantries, the Viceroy was steering the conversation toward the matter at hand.<p>

"As it should be," Tarkin replied. He gave the appearance of someone who was listening and talking but who had already made up his mind. The deceptively frail old man leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. "I don't take kindly to being toyed with, Viceroy. And although by outward appearances it may seem that we have 'nursed a delicate balance', we both know that that is only a façade. That the Republic is bidding for control of all sectors."

Leia felt a tingle of warning through the Force and she moved her hand slowly to the hilt of her lightsaber.

"You couldn't be further from the truth," Bail answered smoothly. "We have always respected the rights of all peoples to govern themselves according to their basic beliefs and morals. We have no issue with the Imperials, even if you follow through with your bid for independency. As long as your member worlds continue to choose their affiliation freely."

"And who should be the judge of that?" Tarkin asked, his eyes flitting to the closed door to his left. "All of you with your high ideals, calling us down if but one of our citizens raises a hand against his world's chosen government," he waved his hand as if to dismiss the entire Republic with the gesture. Then, placing his hands on the arms of his chair, he said, "Judge lest not you be judged. There are several of your own worlds that have more than just _one citizen_ screaming for change."

Bail leaned back in his chair, mimicking the Moff's body language. "Aren't all of these concerns more appropriate for the Senate floor?" He asked tiredly.

"Aren't they, indeed," Tarkin sneered as the conference room door slid open. "Which is why we will begin to discuss the true issue at hand here."

As Tarkin was speaking a blue-skinned man glided through the door. Tarkin did not turn to acknowledge him or to see who it was. The man was evidently expected and Tarkin made that quite clear when he introduced him without even looking his way, his sunken eyes still trained on Bail Organa. "Have a seat, Grand Admiral Thrawn. We were just getting to the heart of the matter."

"This is a diplomatic meeting and discussion, why has a member of your military been invited?" Leia asked, her hand still resting on her lightsaber's hilt. The glowing red eyes of the Grand Admiral tracking her like lasers.

"I very well could've asked the same thing when you showed up, Jedi Skywalker, now, couldn't I?" Tarkin replied.

That was it. Leia felt sure of it. This was about the Jedi appearing to partner with the Republic, perhaps about the Jedi squadron itself. Leia kept her composure, wondering just how much the Imperials knew. It was only a matter of time before information leaked, it was inevitable. But that didn't stop her from praying against hope that the person leaking information wasn't the man she was supposedly meant to marry.

Bail and Leia exchanged glances. "I'm sure I don't understand what you are alluding to," Leia responded.

"Why don't we drop the false pretenses," Thrawn said slowly and deliberately. "I have been brought in, since you asked, to address our concerns regarding the development of super weapons."

Leia pressed her shoulders back into her chair. "According to Galactic Code two-oh-seven-five-eight, no one world or faction of the government shall develop weapons with capabilities beyond what is considered a defendable need as defined in the contents of the Code," Leia replied.

"No need to regurgitate your petty rules and regulations to me, _Jedi_. We are all quite familiar with the _Galactic Code_," Tarkin snapped. "It is the same code that you hid behind when the Republic's hired hands destroyed my research facility in the Maw."

Tarkin's reference to 'hired hands' was referring to the Jedi. It had been a team of Jedi that had been dispatched to dismantle the Imperial installation in the Maw. "That offensive was approved by the Galactic Court and Senate-"

"I do not recog-"

Tarkin tried to interrupt but Leia continued, "_Of which_ you were a part of at the time of that discovery and vote."

Bail raised his hand up, calling for silence. "If it is the dismantling of the Maw Installation that you have a problem with-"

"_That_, I'm afraid, is not the problem itself, just an element of it," Thrawn replied, his demeanor cool and casual, especially in juxtaposition to the man seated next to him.

"Then why don't we, as you so eloquently put it, drop the false pretenses and get to the real matter at hand," Bail replied.

"What of the word of a Republic super weapon being developed in tandem with the Jedi?"

"You are mistaken. There is no super weapon," Leia replied.

Tarkin turned to Leia. "I apologize, Jedi Skywalker. But would a squadron of Jedi find its match in all the galaxy, in your opinion?"

Leia knew that Bail, in his role as Viceroy, had limited knowledge of the entire scope of the Jedi Stealth Squadron. So she responded, "The Jedi _serve_ the galaxy."

"Is that why you arrived here alongside the Viceroy, on the opposite side of the table from me? And from the Empire?"

"There is no Empire," Leia responded.

"How dare you sit here and denounce us? The _Empire_," he said, raising his hands in the air with palms upward, "Is currently surrounding you."

Leia read more into his words than just a mere indication of steel beams and infrastructure. She stretched out her senses once again.

"Let's not argue over semantics, Tarkin," Thrawn interjected and trained his eyes on Leia. "From where I sit, it appears that the Jedi serve the Republic as has always been the flaw of this system. Can you blame us for wanting to defend ourselves?"

"And just how are you proposing to do that? By nursing another Sith Lord from within your ranks?" Leia asked, she could feel the approach of numerous minds, all alert and determined. All most probably soldiers. Her muscles tightened; her instincts coiled and ready and her patience once again straining at its limits. Bail placed a hand on her forearm and she took a deep breath.

Thrawn's eyes went from Leia's face to Bail's hand. "Yes, do please keep your pet on her leash," he said. "What other defense would you recommend for us, Jedi? Is there any other _reasonable_ defense against the whole of the Jedi Order?" He leaned back in his chair. "I think not."

"So you admit to conspiring to aid the rise of a Dark Lord?" Leia asked incredulously.

"I have admitted to nothing…yet," Thrawn replied and his words were followed by a full accompaniment of stormtroopers filing into the small conference room.

Leia stood, drew her lightsaber and was in a defensive stance before anyone could say a word.

Thrawn clapped his hands and smiled. "Ahhhh. Thank you so much for your effective demonstration of how the Republic approaches a peaceful diplomatic discussion, Jedi Skywalker."

Bail got to his feet and stood next to Leia, his eyes taking in the armed guards now surrounding them. "What is the meaning of this, Tarkin?"

"Meaning?" He asked innocently. "In fear of my safety and the safety of all of my people, I think it would be prudent if the two of you stayed on as my _special_ guests until we got some more definitive answers regarding the Republic's intentions."

Leia stepped forward, but Bail held his hand out, stopping her. "It's alright, Leia. That's what we are here for, after all, to allay any groundless fears."

Leia hesitated but then shut her weapon down. A bloodbath in this room wouldn't do any of them any good and she wasn't sure if she could get herself and Bail out safely if they didn't have some sort of plan or the element of surprise on their side. And presently, they had neither. But as she lowered her lightsaber to her hip, she flipped her comlink to her emergency channel, hoping by some miracle that someone was listening.

"Very well, then," Thrawn supplied. "Guards, please relieve our guests of any _unnecessary_ provisions on their persons and show them to their quarters."


	34. Chapter 34

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant_

"When they confiscated her lightsaber they must've taken her comlink as well," Luke said. He was sitting in a small room with Master Kenobi, Airen Cracken and Crix Madine. They had just finished listening to the open call that Leia had sent via her communications unit and that Luke had intercepted.

"Yes, we haven't heard anything since then and our repeated attempts to contact the Viceroy have gone unanswered," Kenobi said.

"As well as our communiques to the Imperial contact that organized the visit," Madine responded.

"What're we gonna do?" Luke asked. He couldn't stand just sitting around and discussing what they already knew while his sister could be in danger.

"We'll have to send someone to investigate. We'll have to tread lightly, we don't want to incite a diplomatic incident on a misunderstanding," Kenobi said.

"A _misunderstanding_? You heard the recording," Luke spit back.

"We all heard the recording and it could be taken in several different ways," Madine countered.

"_Relieve them of any unnecessary provisions_ and then her comlink went dead? When is a comlink _unnecessary_? When you're taken _prisoner_, that's when," Luke argued. He wished for the millionth time that he had been able to locate this father, knowing that the two of them would've already been on their way to rescue Leia instead of wading through diplomatic bureaucracy instead. But Anakin Skywalker was nowhere to be found.

"We aren't disagreeing with you, Luke," Kenobi replied thoughtfully. "And the words were probably chosen intentionally, so if we were to overreact, then they could blame _us_ for starting a war."

"Right," Cracken agreed. "A dozen to one, if we show up, turbolasers blaring, Bail and Leia will be comfortably squared away in a posh apartment and the Imperials will have gotten exactly what they wanted."

"War without the blame," Kenobi said.

"Alright," Luke sighed in defeat, but he was far from giving up. "So, we take a couple of StealthX's and sneak ourselves in there." Who knew that his squadron's first mission would involve rescuing his own sister?

"We don't want to tip our hand on the stealth technology until it is fully warranted," Madine countered.

Luke wanted to ask what would be more warranted than a missing Viceroy and Jedi, but refrained. Even though Bail Organa was a close family friend and Leia was his twin sister, he had to tamp down on emotional attachments and look at this as objectively as possible. He had not been doing a very good job of that thus far. Maybe it was a good thing that his father was not aware of Leia's predicament. The two of them together would be hard-pressed into seeing reason.

"Besides, this will more than likely be a ground mission, so sending StealthX's would be a waste," Cracken offered. "Not to mention that they are single-seaters. We aren't guaranteed that the ship that Organa and Skywalker arrived in is going to be available to them on the way out."

"That's why I invited Colonel Cracken," Madine said. "Being our Supreme Commander of Intelligence, he's got the available covert personnel, civilian contacts and vessels to get you into and out of Imperial Space."

"Before I can determine what resources we'll need, we'll need to know the proposed makeup of our strike team," Cracken stated.

"Two Jedi," Kenobi answered. "Probably myself and Skywalker here and two droids. The Viceroy has a particular astromech that is wired with a distress indicator directly linked to his personal comlink. Although probably not on his person any longer, the droid should be able to get a lock on the comlink's location and at least point us in the right direction. We'll need to pair him up with a counterpart droid for communication purposes." Kenobi hesitated. "Captain Antilles will be aware of which droids I am speaking of."

Cracken had begun keying the information into his datapad, rubbing on his chin as he seemed to digest the information that he had received. "I have a ship and crew," he looked at the other members seated at the table. "A trusted resource. They'd have all the right codes and reasons to fly into Imperial space without raising an eyebrow. Right now they're halfway across the galaxy, though. You'd have to rendezvous with them in deep space, it'd probably be best that way for our purposes, anyway."

"We can slip out of Coruscant in our StealthX's. All the better, if our departure isn't well known," Luke said.

"That's no problem for the Astromech, either you or I can have him inserted in our ship. But there's hardly room for a counterpart droid in the cockpit of an X-wing."

"We can disassemble it. Once we rendezvous with the contact, I can put it back together before we reach Imperial Space," Luke said.

"If you have any issues, both of these particular contacts are handy with mechanicals," Cracken offered. "Speaking of these contacts," he said, looking around the room. "These two will most likely be familiar to the both of you, but they're affiliation with us is to remain deeply buried. They'll be a civilian ship that you hired, no more."

"Understood," Kenobi replied and Luke nodded his understanding as well.

* * *

><p><em>Rendezvous in Deep Space, 5 Days Later<em>

Luke had never been more annoyed at how long things seemed to take to get done. Even after everything had been decided it had taken days to get the droids from Captain Antilles and to get the right clearances for him and Kenobi to take the StealthX's on their first official run. He had spoken with his mother, but only under the guise of checking in. He hadn't wanted to worry her unneccessarily. And as of the time he and Obi Wan finally did leave Coruscant, he had still not located the whereabouts of his father. But he was on his way now, and Luke remained focused on his sister. It was difficult to make contact when they were across the galaxy from one another, but he took comfort that if anything terrible would've been happening to her, he would've felt it. At best, he could tell that she was anxious and angry. To Luke, that was good news.

The little astromech that Kenobi had requested chittered excitedly and Luke glanced down at his readouts. "You're right, Artoo. We're coming up to the rendezvous," he said. Something about the droid seemed comfortable and familiar. The two had 'chatted' almost the entire trip through hyperspace and Luke had been thankful for the diversion.

When Luke pulled down on the lever that brought him out of hyperspace, he busied his hands with all the appropriate procedural activities that hyperspace diversion entailed. At the tail end of that procedure was opening up the secure frequency on his subspace comm, and making visual and audio contact with Cracken's crew.

Sure enough, Luke spotted the looming freighter, hanging innocently in the middle of deep space. Its hull pockmarked with carbon scoring and littered with streaks of dirt or grease, Luke couldn't be sure which. He recognized the design as one that was popular back before he was born, maybe even before his father was born. As he floated closer in, without even thinking, he mumbled into his comm," What a piece of junk."

Almost immediately, his speakers crackled in response and a loud voice came over the secure channel. "_She'll make point five past light speed_," the voice answered him. "_She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, kid. I've made a lot of special modifications myself_."

_Han Solo?_ Luke's mood soared and he wanted to shout the name over the comm but then thought better of it. Even in deep space on secure channels, someone could always be listening. "In that case, I'm impressed," Luke said instead, unable to hide the delight in his voice. "And relieved, in more ways than one."

"_Sorry to dispel your low opinion of me_," Han countered back. "_Now if we're done with the friendly reunion, how 'bout you jettison your butts over here so that we can get this party moving?_"


	35. Chapter 35

It is Your Destiny…

_Byss_

Leia could feel Bail's comforting presence from somewhere nearby. He wasn't in any of the adjoining rooms; that had been established days ago when her subtle knocking on walls was answered with sharp reprimands and, hitherto, idle threats. If she wasn't being held against her will, she would have nothing to complain about as far as accommodations went. Her quarters were expansive and well-appointed. She had already puzzled out a few dozen means of escape but something had been telling her to wait.

As the days wore on, she could feel her brother's concern and reassurance stronger and stronger through the Force. Surely he was on his way by now. She remained vigilant, taking an inventory of makeshift weapons available to her and remaining well-rested and well-fed. At least thus far, they hadn't tried to poison her or harm her in any way. And from Bail's calm Force signature, just a few meters away, he was undoubtedly being treated well, and likewise preparing for anything, just as she was.

And so it was, when she felt the ripple of surprise from Bail, that she was ready and waiting when the door to her quarters slid open. No less than fifteen elite stormtroopers filed into her room and surrounded her. She searched for Bail, but he wasn't with them. Her muscles twitched in anticipation as all manners of attack and escape that she had envisioned these past several days flitted through her mind. Two stormtroopers approached her, each with a pair of stun cuffs in their hands, holding them up to her like a trainer approaching a wild animal.

"Easy now," one of them said. "We're going to slip these one you. Don't give us any trouble and there won't be any trouble."

A million scenarios ran through her mind in that instant. What if she fought? What if she didn't? Advantages and disadvantages, pros and cons, odds and outcomes. In the end, she held her hands out in submission. Without Bail in her sights. Without knowing exactly what she was walking into, fighting now, she decided, might do more harm than good.

But that didn't mean she had to like it.

"Aren't you the least bit embarrassed that it takes so many of you to subdue a twenty-year-old girl?" She asked as the binders clamped down uncomfortably on her wrists.

"Shut up, Jedi," the trooper snapped as he bent down and bound her ankles in the same manner.

"Is that what they told you?" She asked through amused laughter. "I'm not-"

Before she could finish, someone pushed her from behind and she instinctively took a step forward to keep from falling on her face. The binders on her ankles sent a paralyzing shock that radiated through every muscle in her body, contorting them and causing her to crumple to the ground in a mess of quivering limbs. The movement of her fall caused both sets of cuffs to activate, amplifying the effect until all she could do was work furiously at trying to remain still, using every bit of the Force to accomplish the task while dampening the painful effects of the electrifying currents.

"Works every time," a voice came from behind her as she felt dozens of hands grabbing at her and pulling her to her feet.

As the cuffs went idle and she slowly composed herself, she actually felt a flood of relief course through her veins. _At least now I know for sure that this is no longer a diplomatic visit_. The thought seemed a little ironic, considering the circumstances, but half the battle over these past several days had been in not knowing exactly how to react. It was easy now to know that she could pull out all of the stops. Of course, that information would've been a lot more useful before she had been put into these stun cuffs.

"Now," one of the troopers said. "Shut up and walk slowly."

She did as she was told; only receiving mild shocks as she took very small steps in the direction in which her escorts shoved her. The more they walked, the closer she could feel Bail's presence. As before, it seemed as though he was being similarly treated, only now the thought wasn't so comforting. Perhaps now they would figure out what the Imperials wanted.

* * *

><p>"Make no mistake," Tarkin said calmly. "You will tell us what we want to know."<p>

Leia stood, still bound at the wrists and ankles, in front of Grand Moff Tarkin and his blue-skinned Grand Admiral that he called Thrawn with what looked like a full accompaniment of stormtroopers behind him. Bail was next to her, similarly restrained. They had already been through several rounds of questioning.

From what Leia could gather, it seemed as if they knew of the Jedi squadron but were missing the critical stealth technology component. She had offered a few red herrings, but so far the pair hadn't bitten. Not really knowing what it was he was hiding, Bail had remained relatively quiet, only refusing to say anything at all. They had each taken a few shoves, resulting in the same pool of limbs that Leia had become back in her quarters. It had been hard for her to see Bail Organa suffer that way, but when it had happened to her, if he had known anything, she was sure he would've spilled it.

At this point she was wondering if she should just tell them. Not because she was exhausted, even though she was, but because it just might not be worth getting one of them killed over it. What could the Imperials really do with the knowledge? After the first time the Jedi used it, the secret would be exposed regardless. Was one strike with the element of surprise worth Bail Organa's life, or hers? Actually, something in the Force told her that it was. So she drew upon her inner strength and resolved to persevere.

"I think one of them knows," Thrawn said, his red eyes glowing with ruthless calculation as he looked at Leia. "And one of them does not," he continued, his eyes tracking to Bail.

"Then we'll torture it out of her," Tarkin snapped as he followed Thrawn's lead. "Bring me an IT-3 droid."

Thrawn raised his hand. "Summon your torture droid," he said. "But don't waste your time using it on her. Use it on him." And he pointed his blue finger to Bail.

Leia's blood ran cold. She knew she could withstand any means of torture or torture droids that they could throw at her. If necessary, she could slip into a Jedi healing coma and just wait to die or be rescued before she would reveal any secrets. But Bail. She glanced up at him. His face brave and impassive, the muscles in his jaw clenched. Although he was sure to have gone through training of his own, he would not have the fortitude that the Force would provide her.

A large part of her wanted to scream, "No!" But she knew that would play right into the alien's cruel hands. They would torture Bail to get information out of her. She couldn't just shrink away from that and wait them out. Bail shook his head at her as if reading her mind. His eyes were soft with acceptance. He was ready to endure whatever he must. But was she?

The IT-3 droid made its way through the circle of stormtroopers and halted beside Bail. It was accompanied by a handler; a bone-thin man that looked as if he had personally tested each of his pet's sadistic punishments.

"I grow tired of dealing with these two, Coleman," Tarkin said to the bony man. "Don't bother with any standard ramping protocols."

The man began to punch a few buttons, the servomotors of the torturous droid whining in anticipation. An assortment of needles with tiny electric charges dancing from their tips, fanned out and stretched toward Bail.

"Wait," Leia said calmly as she took a step forward, earning her a painful stun from her anklets. Every stormtrooper in the room heaved their blasters up to the ready and trained them on her.

"You have something to say, Jedi Skywalker?" Tarkin asked, obviously pleased with himself.

"No," Bail bellowed as he reached his arms out and put them up and over the bony man's head, encircling him and choking him with his stun cuffs underneath the man's chin. The movement must have been shocking him tremendously, but Bail fought against the pain as he whirled the IT-3 droid around and pushed it into Tarkin.

Leia took a blind, backwards Force leap and pummeled herself into a few stormtroopers, wrestling a blaster from one as she rolled on the floor and opened fire, knocking a wave of troopers back as chaos broke out in the small room.

She continued rolling as she made her way back toward Bail, firing her blaster all the while. Tarkin's voice was screaming in agony and protest, calling for someone to give him aid. In her peripheral vision she could see the alien Thrawn calmly sidestepping out of the way of the melee, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Shoot him! Shoot him!" Tarkin was crying now as the IT-3 droid's electrified needles sunk deeper into his skin.

Lying on her stomach and picking off a swarm of encroaching troopers, Leia heard an "umph" and then a large weight fell on top of her. Unable to see anything now, her blaster fire was still spewing its charges aimlessly; her trigger finger clenched down from the shock of the stun cuffs. The debilitating effects of the shockwaves were quickly fatiguing her muscles and she fought to remain conscious and in control.

Someone yanked the blaster from her hands as she began to feel a heavy, wet warmth soak into her clothes and make contact with her skin. She thought it might be escaping oil or solution from the IT-3 droid. The noise in the room began to dissipate. She could hear heavy gasps coming from Grand Moff Tarkin as his people attended to him and he continued to reprimand them through his pain. "Fools! I'm fine. Enough," he was saying.

Leia lay still beneath the weight of the body strewn on top of her. The IT-3 droid sputtered and blatted like a soldier wounded and Leia could see the frail legs and feet of the bony man as he tenderly attended to his charge, mumbling reassuring words and curses simultaneously.

From where everyone was standing, she was almost positive that the body on top of her must've been the Viceroy. She could feel his life force beating steadily, although weak with exhaustion much like her own. His muscles were still twitching from the residual effects of the stun cuffs and hers were doing the same. She was impressed by his brave silence when it was taking everything she had not to at least whimper from the overwhelming pain.

"Ah! Fools!" She heard Tarkin spit again. "Stun! I said stun only!"

"Sir, you were in direct bodily harm," a trooper replied.

"Also your fault!" Tarkin snapped. "And now you've shown your incompetence twice today!"

"Well, the gig us up now, Tarkin," Leia heard Thrawn say coolly as she watched his booted feet walk toward her. "So much for the lie and wait strategy," Thrawn added as one of his boots kicked Bail's heavy weight from atop of her.

And in that instant, she knew.

When all that she felt were his stun cuffs reacting violently to the movement, but his muscles were not answering at all. She knew what the wet warmth had been. She understood why he hadn't been whimpering in pain. As if in confirmation, she watched as the thick puddle of blood seeped across the floor under her arms and against her fingertips. Way too much blood.

"It doesn't matter," Tarkin said and she shut her eyes against the realization, refusing to let her emotions come forth. Not now. "I was tired of the games anyway and your plan was flawed. The Republic hasn't even bothered to respond to their disappearance," Tarkin snapped, as if oblivious to her continued presence.

She reached out for the comforting assurance of Bail's life force, but it was dwindling and elusive. Utilizing the Force, her invisible fingers found the blaster wounds, but there were too many and too large to apply pressure enough to close them all.

"Oh, have no fear. They are responding," Thrawn replied. "Exactly as I had predicted."

"You said they would send a response team that would single-handedly incite a war! Our sources tell us that there's been absolutely no movement by any of the Republic fleets."

Leia worked on slowing Bail's already slowly thumping heart, working furiously to keep enough blood in his veins to keep him alive.

"I never said it would be a _fleet_. I never said precisely what kind of response it would be…or what _kind_ of war," Thrawn answered mysteriously.

"Don't try to impress me with your evasiveness," Tarkin replied, the shakiness in his voice still evident from his recent experience. "When you commit yourself to nothing it's easy to appear to have committed to anything."

Bail moaned and Leia's heart leapt with renewed faith. She utilized some of her concentrated efforts to relieve him of the pain.

"You impress me, Grand Moff. _That_," he hesitated, "is unexpected."

Tarkin made a sound that seemed to shake off the insult. "Take her away," he said and Leia immediately felt herself being pulled up to a standing position, her stun cuffs shocking already numbed muscles. "No more posh prison, either. I want every available limb in a stun cuff and her magnaclamped to the floor. I don't want her nose to twitch without receiving a shock…"

Tarkin continued with his description of how she should be restrained, but Leia couldn't hear any of it. Her eyes had fallen to the bloody lump of man that lay nearly lifeless at her feet. Her own pain and movement caused her to lose the tenuous grasp she had on all of his opened wounds and seeing how much blood he had lost already made her fragile confidence falter.

As they began to pull her away, she croaked, "He's still alive!" As she struggled to keep him in her line of sight, twisting her body around in spite of the pain.

Everyone's eyes went to the blaster-riddled body on the floor. Tarkin took a step toward Bail and nudged him with the toe of his boot, eliciting a low moan from the Viceroy.

"So it would seem," he said and then turned away. "Put him out of his misery."

Leia screamed but the arms encircling her turned her around, trying to lead her forcefully out of the room. With all the strength she had left, she Force leapt straight up and out of their grasps, crunched her body in a backwards somersault and landed crouching near Bail's body. But during her leap, while in mid-air, the sound of a lone blaster rifle bark had echoed against the walls, its report still ringing in her ears as she scrambled to get next to Bail Organa. And as Leia fumbled to place her hands on his chin, turning his face to hers, she felt the last of his life force fade away like a whisper on the wind and something inside of her turned off or on, she couldn't be sure. She only knew that her life, that _nothing_, would ever be the same again. That from this moment on, _she_ would never be the same again.


	36. Chapter 36

It is Your Destiny…

_The Millennium Falcon (en route to Byss)_

Luke sat alone at the small table in the lounge of his friend's ship. Well, he wasn't sure if it could qualify as alone or not. The deactivated figure of the golden protocol droid known as C-3PO was sitting next to him. The task of reassembling him was near completion. After a flurry of anxious observations and complaints, following what Luke would now call the droid's 'premature activation', Threepio was once again shut down.

The newly captained Han Solo hadn't been very pleased to welcome the protocol droid on his ship. Apparently, Cracken's short message of: 'expect two droids', hadn't exactly translated for Han to mean: one droid who could talk back along with his counterpart. But the boisterous spacer had taken it in stride and even offered Luke run of his tool chest while he worked at piecing the unwelcomed guest back together.

The thought made Luke chuckle. Han Solo had always been somewhat of an enigma to Luke. A fiercely independent soul tempered by a well-hidden heart of gold. Han was no follower or joiner, yet he often took on that role to save face for his dirty little secret of valuing his friends' lives above his own.

Luke had watched with interest, Han's dedication to a project that by all rights should've been his but wasn't. Lesser men would've been bitter, some even to the point of sabotage. Han had only seemed to take the commitment of handing the project over to someone else more seriously. He had been like a parent, preparing his child to succeed without him.

Luke knew, however, that Han Solo would probably sooner die than admit that he _liked_ helping people. Or that he viewed peace and justice as valuable and attainable as Luke knew he, his sister and the entire Jedi Order did. For Han, it was much easier to play the part of cynic and the role of optimist on the sly. Regardless, now that the young Jedi knew that Han hadn't deserted the Repubic, something Luke had had a terrible time trying to come to terms with, the universe seemed righted. The illogical had become logical once again. A loud clang interrupted the silence of deep space travel followed almost immediately by a Wookiee's reprimanding roar and Han's expletive-riddled reply.

Luke smiled. He had to admit that the cantankerous captain certainly played the part of the disparaging pessimist well. He glanced around the bulkhead of the ship. The ship he had called a 'piece of junk' the first time he saw it. Han hadn't been lying about the modifications or about her 'having it where it counted'. But in the short time he and Kenobi had been traveling with the intrepid pair, Han and his Wookiee companion, it had become evident that neither of them felt that the modifications were quite complete. The two seemed rapt with the pursuit of perfection in the form of an aging freighter that, when called upon by friend or foe, would always prove to be more than met the eye.

In a way, the ship was a perfect reflection of its owner. Someone who would be forever underestimated when judged by their outward appearance, but would then never fail to surprise their doubters with feats unfathomable by initial evaluations. There was another large crash and Luke could feel the metal-sheeted floor vibrate beneath his feet. The ensuing yelp was only made more comical by Han's colorful retort.

It was comforting to Luke to see his friends so happy. And he meant that for Chewbacca, as well. The fearless Wookiee had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, always lingering thoughtfully and protectively in the background whenever their old family friends, the Organas, were around. Never before had he seen Chewie so animated and vocal, however. And, although mostly arguing or correcting Han, the Wookiee seemed thrilled to be free from the chains of diplomacy.

"Would you rather be alone with your thoughts?"

Luke had felt the lingering presence of Obi Wan somewhere behind him on the small ship. He had wondered if the Jedi Master wanted to speak to him, but figured Kenobi would approach, as he was now doing, when he was ready.

"Not at all, Master," Luke said warmly, and then indicating the empty end of the curved banquette, he added, "Please have a seat."

"I've been struggling with something this entire trip," Obi Wan began without preamble.

"I could sense some…indecision," Luke replied honestly.

"You're very strong in the Force, Luke. Trust your instincts; they will always serve you well."

"That's not what you've been struggling with whether or not to tell me," Luke replied.

Obi Wan smiled as a teacher would upon a student who has displayed a lesson learned. "You're quite right. But…it's not only what I should tell you but also _how_ I should tell you. You see, what I have to say may defy common sense - defy the very instincts I have just instructed you to trust."

"My instincts tell me that I can trust you. Even in matters that might defy common logic," Luke replied, once again speaking the truth as the Force seemingly fed the words to him.

Obi Wan drew in a deep breath and then released it, his old eyes studying Luke intently. "Master Yoda and I have been harboring a great secret for some two decades now," he began. "A secret that directly relates to you and your sister. A secret that, up until now, was not yours to know, but ours, Master Yoda's and mine, to forge as best as we could see fit."

"And now something has changed that?" Luke asked, his interest piquing, he abandoned his task of repairing the dismantled droid.

Obi Wan nodded gravely. "The future is always in motion," he whispered the old Jedi credo. His eyes unfocused as his thoughts seemed to carry him a million parsecs away. Then he looked upon Luke, as if upon a ghost. "Yoda says you look much the same as when he first met you."

Luke furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean? Yoda's known me since I was born."

Obi Wan shook his head. "You came to him, from the future. The not-so-distant future from as far as we can tell now," Kenobi said simply, as if reciting tales of a shared vacation. "Your sister," he continued, "looking much the same as she does now, came to me at the same time, although Yoda and I wouldn't know it until years later when we finally confided in each other."

"What are you saying?" Luke asked. "That we…altered time?"

"Traveled back," Kenobi agreed, "for the sole purpose of fixing the future."

"That's," Luke started, his vocal chords betraying him momentarily as he hesitated. "That's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible with the Force," Kenobi said.

"Altering the past, traveling in time, you yourself have cautioned all the younglings about the risks…the danger. How it is of the dark side," Luke replied, his eyes wide.

"I don't expect you to understand. I probably have about as much time as your sister did back then to help you comprehend something that is innately incomprehensible," Kenobi said. "Something that goes against the very teachings that our beliefs are founded upon. But it was the shattering of those beliefs, of everything that we stood for, that both beseeched you and enabled you to do what the two of you did."

"Did I…," Luke stopped unable to say it. Had he succumbed to the dark side somewhere in another life? Was he destined to do the same in this one?

Kenobi reached out a hand and covered Luke's with a reassuring squeeze. "Not you or your sister," he said before drawing his hand back as dawning made its way across Luke's features.

"Father," he whispered.

"I don't have to tell you what it means to have the Chosen One fall," Kenobi said gravely. "At the time you and your sister came to us, you were the last of the Jedi."

Luke felt as if he had been punched in the gut by an angry Gundark. "What? How can that be? There are hundreds of thousands of Jedi…," Luke's words trailed off as his trembling hands covered his mouth, then his eyes and then pressed violently against his temples trying desperately to slow the tumultuous thoughts that were running loose inside of his mind. The distant clanging and muffled noises coming from Han and Chewie elsewhere in the ship were the only things that were grounding him to reality and he fumbled to remain attached to their comforting presence.

"Channel your emotions, take control of your thoughts," Obi Wan coached him. "With you and your sister's guidance, we have altered that horrible past."

"Forever?" Luke asked quickly.

Obi Wan's gaze fell away. "It is difficult to tell if we have truly changed the events or only delayed them. We may never know. For Yoda and I…we accepted long ago that that...unknown would be our destiny. But for you and your sister, your father's fate, you must face. No matter what it is."

"You're telling me that my Father could be the next Dark Lord of the Sith? The one you warned us about months ago? Has he started to fall already?"

"No," Kenobi replied, grasping Luke's forearm in a comforting gesture. "I didn't tell you this so that you would harbor false suspicions about your father. Having advanced knowledge of the future is dangerous. It clouds your every movement until you don't know what is you and what is the you you think you should be. Master Yoda and I have made many changes, all in good faith that we would save the Chosen One from his previous fate. But our time as custodians of this duty is drawing to a close. I don't have time to explain everything to you, Luke. But there's one thing that someone must know. One thing that _you_ must know."

Luke stared at the old Master, trying to absorb everything that he had just said. "What is it that I need to know?" He asked, knowing that perhaps no more important question would ever pass through his lips again.

"The portal that you and your sister came through was opened by the combination of both light and dark side forces. Both went in, but only one can come out," he said. "Your future self left behind a galaxy dark with a Sith empire, riddled with death and destruction both behind and in front of it. You must ensure that only _light_ gets back through. That was the purpose of the altering of time."

"But how? How can I do that?"

"Your father must make it back to the event horizon, the point at which you and your sister opened the portal, as a Jedi – still embracing the light side of the Force. Or…"

"Or what?"

"Or die as a Jedi before he turns."

"And if he turns and arrives at the event horizon a Sith? Or dies as a Sith? What then?"

Obi Wan shook his head. "Then we'll have changed nothing."


	37. Chapter 37

It is Your Destiny…

_The Millennium Falcon (en route to Byss) _

Han felt like one of those pink-leotard-legging-contortionists that he had seen on Nar Shadda, minus the pink leotards and the nimble, lithe bodies. Presently he had his 1.8 meter frame crammed into a 1.2 meter opening in the bowels of his ship, becoming more intimately familiar with the valves of his Quadex power core than he ever dreamed of becoming. He and Chewie were trying to shave another few seconds off the _Falcon's_ already streamlined start-up sequence. Aiming for that elusive 'under three minutes' that he had heard that crazy loon Vandangante claim was possible.

Although he had been speaking Shyriiwook since he was a child, he was having trouble translating just how much difference there was between the current 3.4 minutes that the _Falcon_ was now testing at and the flat, record-breaking, bragging rights 3.0 that he was dead set on achieving. Something told him that the Wookiee wanted to crack this barrier as much as he did, but that he also enjoyed making Han's life miserable while they did it.

"Captain Solo?"

Han instinctively lifted his head toward the sound of the old man's voice, moving his skull in a cramped space that he had no room to move in and thus earning a brand new dent (either in his cranium or on the ship, at this point it didn't really matter) and releasing another slew of curse words to go along with the parade that had gone on before them.

"_What?_" Han finally said through clenched teeth as the stars danced on the backs of his eyelids.

"Would it be too much trouble to check our ETA? I'm afraid Luke and I have both felt a…disturbance in the Force coming from Leia."

_Of course, how could it _not_ be the Force?_ "Same as last time you asked. The laws of hyperspace travel don't change with Force visions."

"It wasn't a vision, Han. Something's wrong. Leia's in trouble," Luke's voice wafted up to him through the tiny spaces of the ship's innards. Much like the boy himself had worked his way into Han's tightly guarded list of people he would call a friend.

"I'm sorry, kid. We're going as fast as we can." When nothing came back but the deafening silence of a guilt trip, Han began to shimmy out of the space he was in, feet first, as he mumbled, "Maybe I can get us a closer jump-in point…_and_ scramble a few things around that'll cut some time on our landing vector. But I'm not making any promises…"

* * *

><p>Han spotted him first. He was busy landing the <em>Falcon<em> on the small pad that the Byss traffic controller had assured him was for light-stock freighters 'of all sizes'. Maybe on a day when all the other ships already set down had been on the smaller side of the light-stock freighter variety, then that would've been true. But on this occasion, every largish sized light-stock freighter had apparently already landed on Byss and each seemed to take up just a little more than their designated space until the one spot left that had been given to Han was about as big as a Wookiee's toenail. Yes, Wookiees' toenails were pretty big, but it just proved the old saying that everything was relative.

Anyway, Han's eyes were everywhere at once while he tried not to land on top of one of his neighbors. That wouldn't have gone very far in the subtlety department that they had been shooting for. And that's when he saw the lone figure standing in the not-so-far-off distance, watching Han's landing with a little too much interest. Years of training and just that innate ability that he had been born with immediately drew Han's attention to him. He suffered from only a moment's panic at already having their cover blown, but that quickly morphed into incredulity and then annoyance.

"Somebody could've clued me in on the extra team member," he said under a muttered breath as his eyes and focus went back to the task at hand.

Chewie howled and Luke asked, his voice sounding genuinely surprised, "What're you talking about?"

Han tilted his chin in the direction of the man. "Isn't that your old man? Ya gonna tell me you didn't know he'd be here? And I mean literally, right here, in this docking bay, that we just got assigned to us?" Neither Luke nor Kenobi responded as all the remaining occupants on the ship sought out the figure that Han had now brought to their attention. "Or let me guess. This is another Force thing," Han added into the silence as the _Falcon's_ landing gear kissed the tarmac with a gentle thud.

"Yes, I'm absolutely certain this is some kind of Force thing," Kenobi whispered, in that mysterious voice that he liked to use sometimes and that chafed Han's skin like wet underwear.

"You two want to go greet our guest, while Chewie and I shut the ship down?" Han asked.

"I'll go," Luke said as he rose from his seat.

Kenobi stood and placed his hand on Luke's shoulder. "Perhaps I should go…alone."

A silent conversation seemed to pass between the two Jedi as Han tried his best to not appear to be eavesdropping. The whole communicating without talking thing made his skin crawl and he wished they wouldn't do it in front of him. Just when he would think that these Jedi were alright, they would pull things like this.

Whatever the argument had been, Kenobi seemed to win it as he finally said, "You get the droids ready and I'll invite your father back to discuss our plans."

"Wait, droids?" Han asked, spinning around. "Get the _droids_ ready for what? I thought the short one could find the Viceroy's comlink signal from anywhere on planet?"

"He can," Kenobi replied patiently. "But they'll also prove to be essential to the mission, I think. And will be accompanying us wherever we go."

"Aw, no," Han said. "A prissy, shiny know-it-all ain't exactly what I call an excellent covert operative. We might as well send an arrival flare up right now."

"Your expertise is exceptional in this type of operation, I understand that, Captain. But this is my mission, and we will be bringing the droids with us. Whether or not you and Chewbacca come along is entirely up to you," Kenobi answered.

Chewbacca growled, reiterating his wish to accompany the old Jedi.

"That's just great," Han said turning to Chewie. "Our first real mission and you jump ship already?"

The Wookiee barked and hooted.

"I am not being unreasonable," Han replied. "Did you hear that droid when they turned him on earlier? He talks more than a Toydarian at salvage sale."

"I'll go and get Anakin and leave you two to discuss your options," Kenobi interjected and then slipped out of the cockpit.


	38. Chapter 38

It is Your Destiny…

_Byss_

Han was still sore at Chewbacca as everyone gathered in the lounge of his ship. Mostly he was just angry that the two droids would be accompanying them on the mission, but it was much more satisfying to argue with his copilot than with a droid or a couple of Jedi. Well, make that three Jedi now that Anakin Skywalker had joined them.

The dynamics had definitely shifted once the elder Skywalker had arrived. Han recognized that right away. But he couldn't figure out exactly what had happened. Obviously Luke and Kenobi hadn't been expecting him. And it was also very obvious that Anakin Skywalker didn't care. Han found it strange that Leia's father wouldn't have been involved in the rescue attempt in the first place. He kind of admired the man for just inserting himself into the mission. It sounded like something he himself would do if he had been unjustly excluded from something.

Leia's father had just finished outlining his plan. Artoo had completed his scan and had confirmed Anakin's assessment of where Leia and Bail were likely being held. Luckily, everything seemed to coincide and there were only a few points that Kenobi and the elder Skywalker briefly disagreed on. Han voiced his opinion, siding with Kenobi on a couple of things but agreeing with Anakin on a few more. Luke was uncommonly quiet during the entire exchange. In the end, they were all able to come to an agreement and they set out toward the Imperial Governmental Complex with grim determination, the Force and a plan.

* * *

><p>There was a large promenade leading up to the Imperial Governmental Complex. The building was a soaring high rise that would rival almost any on Coruscant. But the team was more interested in the few floors that were below ground. That was where the interrogation and holding cells were according to Artoo Detoo and Anakin's earlier scouting.<p>

On either side of the promenade there were underground merchant areas with souvenir shops, cantinas and restaurants. The north end of each merchant area butted up with the underground level of the Government Complex. The group wasn't entirely sure what they would find between the merchant area and the basement of the target building. They crossed their fingers that it wouldn't require any digging. Mounds of dirt were hard to hide.

Han, Luke and Artoo took the eastern side. Anakin, Chewbacca and Threepio went west. Kenobi would run interference by trying to enter the area via a more conventional method: namely, through the front door. Each underground team would cut through to the basement leaving the droids behind to cover the hole that was created. Luke and Han were to find Leia. Anakin and Chewie were to look for Bail, although the Jedi were unable to 'find' the Viceroy's Force presence as they had already done with Leia. Nobody cared to guess on why that was.

* * *

><p>Han and Luke cut their way through the wall and found themselves in a medical room, probably utilized to keep torture victims at the brink of death. There was an alarm and Luke had to levitate Artoo through the short tunnel so that the little droid could deactivate it. Anakin and Chewbacca must've tripped a similar alarm, but without Artoo, they had been unable to disengage it. By the time Luke and Han stepped out into the corridor, the entire basement floor was on alert.<p>

Although the hallway was bathed in the red glow of flashing security lights, there was no immediate sign of any personnel. The trio concluded that everyone must've been responding to the alarm on the western side of the complex, leaving the eastern side - where Luke, Han and Artoo were - fairly deserted. They followed the schematics, as they had rehearsed, and meandered slowly toward the cell block area.

After several twists and turns without a single soldier or droid, the group almost walked right into a security detail as they rounded one of the final corners. There were two men and a security droid, all heavily armed. Han, Luke and Artoo instinctively stepped back several paces.

"I can distract the guards," Luke whispered. "It'll be difficult since they are so alert, but not impossible. But droids are a different story."

Han was about to suggest that he introduce the sec droid to his blaster in a very intimate way when Artoo beeped and blatted something in return.

"It's worth a shot, I guess," Luke replied.

"What? You speak droid?" Han asked incredulously.

Luke shrugged his shoulders. "I can't speak it, but I can understand him okay."

Han did a double take of his young friend. But the way he understood Shyriiwook could be described in the same way and any soldier worth anything never turned help down in any form or fashion. "Well then, care to share what he said?"

"He said he can temporarily disable the droid." Luke took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "I'll go first. Artoo, on my signal you take care of the droid. Han, you just come in blasting."

Han checked the charge on his blaster. "That's what I do best," he replied with a grin.

The trio made their way back to the bend in the corridor. Luke poked his head around and seemed to merely stare intently at the two guards. Almost immediately Han heard the clacking of metal as something hit the duracrete floor. "Now, Artoo," Luke whispered and Artoo lumbered around the corner and made his way toward the sec droid.

Han looked around the corner. The two men were studying their blaster rifles with great interest and Han could see their magazines lying at their feet. "Whatdya do?"

"I suggested that they unload and clean their weapons."

Before Han could respond he heard the scream of the security droid as it spotted Artoo approaching. "Great," Han muttered, remembering why he never trusted or liked droids. He drew his weapon up and aimed it at the sec droid.

"Wait," Luke said, placing his hand on top of Han's. "Give him a minute."

Han's biting retort was left unvoiced as he felt and heard more than saw the electric impulse that Artoo emitted. The screams of the sec droid fell silent as it slumped on its supports like a drunk on a barstool.

"Now!" Luke hissed.

It was over, as they say, before it even started. Han and Luke made quick work of the incapacitated droid and flustered soldiers. For a moment, Han considered the infinite possibilities that traveling around with an astromech and a Jedi could open up to him. Although he doubted that Luke would take to mind-bending for credits very readily. Besides, he thought sardonically, doing things this way kinda took the fun out of everything.

A few more successful ambushes and they found themselves in a deserted hallway lined with heavily fortified doors.

"Definitely cell blocks," Han muttered as he watched Luke walk up the corridor and then back only to walk up again. Luke turned around, lifted his ear up to the ceiling and then returned to the door that was closest to Han.

"She's here," he said quietly as he placed his palm against the metal door.

"Are you sure?" Han asked dubiously.

"Yep," Luke said as he ignited his lightsaber and began to cut through the cellblock door. "Artoo, work on those alarms, will ya?" Luke directed, and as he threw all of his weight behind the slow moving lightsaber, he told Han through gritted teeth, "Watch for ambushes."

"Yeah, alright," Han muttered as he remembered why everything about Jedi, and their senses, totally unnerved him.

It seemed like an eternity before Han heard the distinctive 'thwump' sound of a large piece of metal dropping to the floor. Having his back to Luke as he watched for unwanted guests, he spun around at the sound only to find himself staring at an empty hole with no sign of the young Jedi.

Before he could call out to Luke, he heard his friend's voice exclaim, "Leia!"

The alarm in Luke's voice made Han's heart drop to his toes. Abandoning his post, he scrambled to the small hole to look through the opening, his stomach twisting at the sight in front of him.

"Damnit," Han cursed as he shimmied through the opening and made his way toward the Jedi twins.

Luke knelt in the middle of the room in front of his sister who was sitting limply with her body strapped to small chair. Her muscles were convulsing with the aftermath of electric shocks from the stun cuffs that were attached to her neck, legs and arms. Her skin was paler than normal and she was covered in blood. Luke's hand was resting on her forehead as her head drooped with her chin resting on her chest.

"I thought you said she wasn't hurt," Han snapped.

"She's not," Luke replied as he began studying the stun cuffs and magnaclamps. "She's in a healing trance."

"Where's she cut?" Han asked, furiously searching for the large wound that would produce the amount of blood that was covering Leia Skywalker.

"This isn't her blood," Luke replied calmly.

Han sat back on his heels. He had only a moment to consider what the young girl sitting in front of him had recently been through. But he knew there was not time for that now. "Can we get her outta here?" He asked as he noticed the magnetic clamps that held her to the floor.

"Bring Artoo in here and go back to stand guard," Luke ordered, sounding more mature and stern than Han had ever heard him.

"Right," Han muttered, still trying to internalize the sight laid out before him. He had never imagined that the Leia he knew would've ever been capable of looking so vulnerable, so fragile. She was a Jedi, for krith's sake! His mind still reeling, Han left the cell and sent Artoo in behind him. Not two or three minutes later, he was in a shoot out with a couple of stormtroopers who were making their rounds. Although he was able to take them, it wasn't before they had been able to send out a distress signal on their comms.

"Let's go, kid. We're gonna have company," Han barked into the gaping hole.

"Artoo got the magnaclamps deactivated but I can't get the stun cuffs," Luke answered back. "She's coming to," he added as Han heard the moan of a husky female voice.

Han stepped back through the opening. "It'd probably been better if she stayed under," he said, watching Leia's eyes blink open. "We're gonna have to move her with the cuffs on."

"I can take it," she rasped groggily. "Just get me outta here."

Han knelt in front of her. "I'll carry her," he said to Luke. "It's easier for me to shoot a blaster one-handed than it is for you to do all that Force stuff and swing a lightsaber around." Luke didn't answer. Han watched as Leia's pupils slowly shrunk back down to normal size as she steadily came out of her trance-like state. "Where's the Viceroy?" He asked and Leia just shook her head in return, her gaze falling to the floor.

Han looked up to Luke. The young Jedi looked as dazed as his sister was. "What is it?" Han asked as he stood and shook Luke at the shoulder, wondering what else could possibly go wrong but then not really wanting to know.

"It's Obi Wan," Luke whispered. He then turned to Han, his eyes coming into focus. "He's in trouble."

One dead, one in trouble – had it been just moments ago when he had thought this mission was going too easily? The sound of dozens of approaching footsteps caused Han to move. There was nothing to do now but to save themselves. "So are we if we don't get outta here," he replied and he knelt back down and moved to lift Leia.

"Wait," Luke said.

Han turned to look at him while remaining crouched on his haunches in front of Leia.

"You take Artoo and get her back to the ship," Luke continued. "I'm going after Master Kenobi."

Han's first instinct was to argue, but he could tell that Luke would not be persuaded to leave his Master even if it meant placing his sister in more danger. "Alright," he replied. "We'll see ya at the ship."

Luke paused as if surprised he hadn't gotten an argument. His eyes refocused, first on his sister and then back onto Han. "Take care of her," he finally said before he slipped out of the door.

Han looked to Leia. "Are you ready?" He asked her while dreading the task he had set out ahead of him. There was no way he was going to move her without causing her a great deal of pain. She gave a slight, brave nod and a reassuring, if not weak, smile. He drew in a deep breath and, as delicately as possible, hoisted her up onto his shoulder and squeezed back out of the cell.


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: I truly apologize for the lengthy absence on the updates for this story. I promise that I'm dedicated to finishing it, but I hit somewhat of a brick wall on this chapter. Still not entirely sure that I'm happy with it, but figured it was better to press on. I hope you all agree. Thanks to everyone who is reviewing and following this story. ~Push

It is Your Destiny…

_Byss_

Anakin Skywalker, the boy who had once been a slave, walked the halls of the Imperial detention center and tried in vain to shake off the feelings of anger and doubt that threatened to consume him. It had not always been this way, yet these feelings were becoming more and more pervasive. As a boy he frequently felt betrayed, abandoned, helpless, and powerless. Yet all of those emotions had been quelled by Qui Gon Jinn's discovery of him. He had become a Jedi, then a husband and father. For many years he thought that he had left those insecurities in the past. But it seemed, as time went on, that they had only lain dormant, patiently waiting to be awakened. But by what? Or by whom?

These were questions that he had meditated on for years now. For this had been a gradual event. Try as he might he was never able to pinpoint the moment in time when his life began to revert back to that which he had been born into. Manipulation, secrecy, doubt; they emerged inside of him like wrinkles on the skin, gradually, continually. Every way he turned, they appeared, surrounding him, covering him, transforming him into someone who, at times, he didn't even recognize.

He could not understand why.

He only understood one thing. There was always one minute detail that remained certain, even after all of these years. Obi Wan Kenobi rested at the center of it. Anakin shut his eyes against the thought, anger flashing inside of him. Walking in pace beside him, Chewbacca grunted questioningly. Anakin opened his eyes and scrambled to reign in his emotions. It was at times amazing how intuitive the gentle giant beside him could be.

"No, it's alright," he soothed the Wookiee with his voice, projecting calming thoughts through the Force. "I sense Leia has been reunited with her brother and is on her way to safety," he added. "We must find Kenobi and make our exit."

_Kenobi_, Anakin thought, the man that had not alerted him of his own daughter's kidnapping. Who had, in fact, mounted a rescue effort without consulting him at all. Who had somehow poisoned his son against him. Yes. Anakin had sensed the apprehension from Luke upon his surprise arrival. It felt like a slap in the face.

Secrets. Doubts. Manipulation.

Anakin swallowed and wrenched his hand tightly against the hilt of his lightsaber as he pushed those feelings down into the crevasses where they festered. These feelings were unfounded, he told himself. They were remnants of his childhood. Fears instilled at such an early age that perhaps he would never know life without them. Padme, his wife, his best friend and his voice of reason, had helped him – _tried_ to help him – understand that. The Jedi Order was not the enemy. Obi Wan Kenobi did not harbor secrets from him. Obi Wan did not poison his children against him. Such thoughts were irrational, he told himself again, as he walked the halls, his pace quickening as he searched out the presence of his former Master.

* * *

><p>Luke followed the Force signature of his friend and Jedi Master, Obi Wan Kenobi. Many people didn't understand the mystical powers that came inherently with being a Jedi. As Luke meandered through the maze of foreign corridors as if he had grown up between their walls, he knew that it would be hard to explain exactly how the Force was working. He only knew that for him it did work and that right at this moment it was compelling him to seek out Master Kenobi.<p>

He could feel the presence of his father and the Wookiee, Chewbacca, nearby. His father's presence was murky and jumbled, but the elder man had always been difficult to read. Regardless, in the air, all around him, there crackled an energy that made Luke's spine tingle with anticipation.

As he drew closer to Master Kenobi, the Force rested like a hand on his back, pushing him forward and Luke had to concentrate so as not to stumble forward. Then, a gut-wrenching pain singed through his insides like swallowing lightning. Anger. Fear. Rage. They pelted him, weighing him down and exhausting him. In its crescendo Luke felt as if life itself had been ripped from him. A vast emptiness consumed him, expanding, threatening to explode. And then deafening silence.

Although he had only walked a few paces, it felt as if he had run across the planet and back. Tired, confused and listless and completely unsure of how much time had actually passed, he did his best to hurry on, to follow the now fading call of the Jedi Master. The Force still hurried him, pushing his body to its limits. Yet, despite all of its efforts to rush him, Luke slowed when he came within sight of his friend. Time seemed to slow and speed up all at once as the last of his energy drained out of him.

He felt dizzy, resting his hands on his knees and blinking his eyes against the scene set out before him.

On the floor, just steps away from him, Obi Wan Kenobi lay on his back with his right arm outstretched, palm open and his deactivated lightsaber mere centims from his fingertips. The Force seemed to continue its call to Luke as he walked slowly toward the felled Master. Kneeling next to Master Kenobi, Luke rested his hand on the Jedi's forehead, still damp from the exertion of his final battle.

Luke closed his eyes. A Jedi was always at peace; that's what he had been taught and emotions were natural but should be controlled and not allowed to control. Yet at that moment Luke was pelted with so many different feelings that he was unable to corral them, categorize them and overpower them as he had practiced so often during his training. There was an urge to cry, to scream and to run away. He had lived his life without experiencing great loss. That proved now to be both a gift and a burden. He thanked the stars that he had never had the occasion to feel this kind of pain before but at the same time wished he had been better prepared to face this day.

Beneath his palm Obi Wan's skin began to cool and tingle. Luke opened his eyes and studied the Jedi Master's face as it began to fade away. He had been told how a Jedi, upon passing, could become one with the universe. Like with most things, much the same as suffering this loss, witnessing the phenomenon was very different than reading about it or discussing it. Once again, Luke struggled to remain composed, blinking back threatening tears as he whispered a final goodbye. His words still floated softly on the air as the great Jedi Master's body began to slowly dissipate, his coarse brown robes collapsing beneath his touch.

Luke slowly ran his hands over the robes that were now the only thing that remained from a man that had been larger than life to him as a young Jedi growing up. His finger traced over a tear in the fabric that remained hot to the touch. Luke grabbed the garment with both hands, holding it up to the light and studying the evidence of what surely must've been the fatal blow. His heart racing, emotions soaring yet again in another direction he begged for what he was seeing not to be true. The slash, the cut in the fabric, it could only have been done by one weapon and one weapon only.

A lightsaber.

There were many ways that societies could judge a boy's transformation into a man. Time was one of the most popular yet insufficient ways of doing so. By that judgment, Luke had been a man for a few years now, had even considered himself as such. But with that, his first breath in a galaxy where a Jedi Master could fall by a lightsaber blade, Luke knew that by all rights and by all measurements, he had now officially left his innocence behind him.


	40. Chapter 40

It is Your Destiny…

_Byss_

Leia stood in the small shower in the 'fresher on Han's ship. She watched the water swirl at her feet, tinged pink as she washed Bail Organa's blood off of her. Her entire body was numb. Her muscles still jumped and twitched beneath her skin and her head throbbed. She leaned her body against the cool walls of the shower, shutting her eyes against the pain, begging for the memories to stop, to leave her, if only for a little while. Memories of Bail's violent execution, of her failure to protect him or defend him, the very thing that she had been sent to do.

Her head shook back and forth in futile denial. A Jedi was never helpless. A Jedi always had the Force, yet the Force had failed her. Or had she failed it? She hadn't quite figured that part out yet. All she knew was that she would have to return to Coruscant to face Winter, her best friend, and tell her that she had allowed her father to be murdered.

Reaching out to her brother, her twin, for support and finding only more confusion and despair, she let herself fall further into the abyss. Sliding her body against the wall, she sunk down to sit on the shower floor. Arms wrapped around her legs, forehead rested on her bent knees, stars danced on the backs of her eyelids as she finally let go.

* * *

><p>Anakin Skywalker and Chewbacca had found Luke cradling Kenobi's empty robes in his arms. Through the numbness and shock, Luke had worked desperately to both shield his suspicions from his father and search the man for answers at the same time. His brain felt overwhelmed with information. The conversation he had had with Obi Wan on the trip to Byss now sitting so differently with him under this new light. What did it all mean?<p>

His father had seemed genuinely shocked by Obi Wan's demise. But from what Luke could gather from Chewbacca, the pair had separated during the time of the Jedi Master's death. He wished fervently that this doubt could be summarily dispelled, perhaps by security footage or some other means. But they were in hostile territory and time was of the essence and for now, Luke chose to cling to the idea that his father was the man that he had always believed him to be and that if it was Anakin Skywalker's destiny to be seduced by the dark side, it hadn't happened yet and when it did, Luke would be there to save him.

The walk back to the spaceport had been silent and grim. Chewbacca cradled the lifeless body of Bail Organa in his arms while Luke held tightly to Obi Wan's robe and lightsaber as if it were a tether to his former life. He could sense the throbbing pain that was his sister in the Force and he used that to mindlessly guide him back to the ship through his hazy daze.

"I'll take Bail's body to Alderaan," Anakin whispered as they arrived at the _Millennium Falcon_. "You take care of your sister."

It took a moment for Luke to comprehend his father's words and another to assess by his body language, as they stood at the edge of the boarding platform, that the older man did not intend to enter the ship with him. "Don't you want to see her? And tell her goodbye?"

Anakin closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. "No," he said. "She needs some time alone. This mission has taken its toll on her."

Standing across from him, Luke barely recognized the man that stood there as his father. His eyes momentairly crossed with rage as anger flared up in him. It surprised him, but then he quickly understood. For himself, he could easily control his emotions. But it was the familiar protectiveness that he recognized as his love for Leia, that wasn't so easily quelled. Whatever his father might do to him, however he might disappoint him or hurt him, the same fate would not be allowed for Leia. "Which is it?" Luke finally asked, unable to hide the hint of annoyance from his words. "Does she need to be alone or does she need me?"

Anakin reached out to his son and put his hand on his shoulder. Luke, for the briefest of moments, allowed the familiar warmth to comfort him smothering his fury like a warm blanket over a smoldering fire. "She needs _you_," his father said. "No more, no less."

Confusion spun through Luke and in that moment he felt like a young child, felt compelled to confess everything so that his father could fix it as he always had. The doubt, the fear and the uncertainty, he wanted to let him wipe it all away or at least keep it all at bay, like his nightmares would huddle under the bed when he was little but dared not surface beneath his father's shadow. He took a deep breath. If only things could be that simple. Instead, he replied, "We'll return to Coruscant. Inform the Masters about Obi Wan."

If Luke were to trust his own assessment, he thought that his father looked disappointed as if he wished Luke would've beg him one more time to stay. But the older man said nothing. And with a simple nod, the two departed.

* * *

><p>Luke walked through the corridors of the <em>Millennium Falcon<em>, eyeing its curved walls as if through someone else's vision. When he came upon its Captain he merely stopped and stared at him, again as if to a stranger.

When Luke didn't say anything, Han finally spoke, "You alone?" The Corellian's eyes searched behind Luke's shoulder for the man that wasn't there. It was at that moment that an emptiness crawled inside of Luke and settled somewhere deep within.

Luke nodded his head, accepting his new reality. "My father is taking the Viceroy's body back to Alderaan."

"What about Kenobi?"

The words stung and Luke flinched. How many more times would he be asked this question before it didn't hurt anymore, he wondered. To Han, he only shook his head.

Han Solo had always been a very perceptive man in Luke's experience and so it was the case here. Without any words, the older man seemed to understand what Luke was saying. How he was feeling. Luke watched with a morbid curiosity as several emotions flitted across his friend's face. They were, of course, brief for Han was not one to wear his emotions outwardly. Nevertheless, his shock and disbelief were palpable through the Force. But there was something else. Something that Luke recognized as a mirror to his own suppressed emotions. Fear.

After a few moments, Luke finally whispered, "Where's Leia?"

Han's mood shifted at the mention of his sister's name. "She's in the 'fresher," he replied as he quickly seemed to gather his wits. "I've spoken to Cracken. I'm to take you and Leia back to the StealthX's," he added quickly as if it was a dialogue long rehearsed. "I won't be going to Coruscant with you."

"Fine," Luke replied, running his fingers through his hair. "That's fine."

"Do you think she'll be up to piloting? I mean, after everything…"

Luke looked back at Han and considered him for a moment. "She'll be fine," he replied almost automatically.

Han turned back to the engineering console, appeared to check on something and then over his shoulder he said, "Well, maybe you should go check on her. She's been in that 'fresher for quite awhile and my water reserves are almost dry."

Luke didn't reply. He watched Han's back for a moment. Tried to read him through the Force but got only garbled feedback, like static over the comm.

"Look," Han said over a deep breath as he turned back around. His face had relaxed, his odd expression replaced by something else that Luke couldn't quite define. "It's not that I mind about the reserves. It's not that at all." The Corellian looked uncomfortable as he shifted on his feet and his eyes darted about the ship until they finally, reluctantly landed back on Luke. "It's just that blood's not an easy thing to wash off, kid," he finally said. "Trust me." There was a pause and Luke watched Han swallow nervously. "And eventually…sometimes…you need something more than water."

Dawning slowly poured over Luke granting him a certain amount of clarity and he nodded. Han seemed to relax knowing that his message had been received as he nodded gravely and turned away.

Luke stood still for a moment. All thoughts of his father and Obi Wan and the future and the past, all slipped away until only he and his sister remained. Somehow together they would make it through this and right now, she needed him. And he needed her. Still feeling a bit numb but finding a certain amount of comfort in the realization that all else could wait, he took a deep breath and headed toward the ship's 'fresher.


	41. Chapter 41

It is Your Destiny…

_The _Millennium Falcon_, en route to deep space_

Luke had heard many people talk about how one's life could turn on a cred. Growing up, living the slow and steady existence of a Jedi, he had had a hard time imagining his fate traveling at such a pace. For his life was predictable and comfortable, if not entirely perfect. That is…until now.

Fate had turned on Luke on this day and its face was ugly, its disposition devious. What had been his life, who had been Luke Skywalker, he couldn't even remember anymore. Master Kenobi was dead. He had been too late to save him. He wondered what monstrosity his old friend had had to face. Whose eyes had he looked in as he drew his dying breath? Had Luke been able to face the culprit, he probably would've died, too. The way he felt now, he would've rather died trying, than to arrive as he had…too late.

Standing now in front of the 'fresher door of the _Millennium Falcon_, he could feel his sister on the other side of it. He could feel her emotions blistering through the Force. On so many occasions they had acted as the balance to the other, when she was feeling down he had been there to cheer her up and vice versa. Never could he recall when the Skywalker twins had both suffered as greatly as they had today. One of them would have to be strong enough to see them through this. Luke prayed desperately for strength.

He brought his hand up and watched as his knuckles wrapped tentatively against the 'fresher door. "Leia?"

There was no response. He knew, of course, that she knew he was there. Through their connection he reached out to her only to feel her push him away and withdraw.

He knocked again, harder this time. "Leia?"

Several moments passed and he heard the water shut off as he sensed his sister's movement on the other side of the thin durasteel door that now separated them. Mentally he could feel her shrinking further and further away from him, as if she were physically running away. If they had not been in the middle of deep space, he would've sworn that she had climbed through an airlock and exited the ship.

"Leia?" He called again, nervousness creeping into his voice. Common sense told him that she had not spaced herself, but desperation required that he see for himself.

Both Han and Chewbacca's concern had been humming like white noise in the background of his thoughts, so much so that Luke was startled to suddenly find Han standing next to him, not having sensed the older man's approach.

Han stood silently for a moment, looking from the still-locked door back to Luke. He appeared poised and it was no longer a mystery why the man was known as such a good Sabacc player, for his expression betrayed not even a hint of the turmoil that Luke could sense lying just beneath the cool facade. "Want me to open it?" He finally asked, head nodding toward the door.

"Can you?" Luke replied.

Han made a noise and shrugged his shoulders as if Luke had asked him if Wampas lived on Tatooine. Without another word, he moved toward the door and began fiddling with its controls. Before Luke had time to decipher just what he was doing, the door slid open. There was a rush of hot, humid air as the captain's quarters filled with the foggy remnants of Leia's long shower. As the haze began to clear, the tiny form of his sister was slowly revealed.

She was huddled on the floor wrapped in a towel, her hair still dripping wet. Luke couldn't recall a time that she had never looked so small and so vulnerable to him. Her emotions, which she had been reeling in and away from him as he had stood waiting, were drawn in so tightly that if he hadn't been looking directly at her, he would've sworn she was not there.

She hadn't moved when the door opened and she didn't lift her head to look up at him. For a moment nothing happened at all and so focused he had been on his sister that he almost forgot that they weren't alone until a movement caught in his peripheral vision. Luke turned and looked at Han. Gone was the stoic Sabacc face that he had noted just moments earlier. Han Solo was staring down at Leia as if she were a ghost. Luke placed his hand on Han's shoulder, causing him to flinch and turn his attention to Luke. "I've got it, thanks," Luke whispered, sending reassuring thoughts through the Force.

Han seemed to consider Luke's words for a very long moment before he finally decided to accept them. Giving Leia one last, quick glance, the Captain cleared his throat, mumbled something about the hyperdrive and walked away.

Luke looked down at his sister, feeling as if the weight of the universe was bearing down on his shoulders. Not for the first time, he wished he would wake up from this nightmare. It wasn't until he saw Leia's shoulders shiver from the cold that he finally stepped inside the 'fresher and shut the door behind him. Looking around, he grabbed a towel and draped it over Leia's head and shoulders. Crouching down in front of her, he began to massage her wet hair. She did nothing to acknowledge his presence, neither thanking him for nor protesting his help, but keeping her head lowered and resting on her bent knees.

"Hey, Ley. You okay?" He finally whispered as he pushed the hair off of her forehead and tried to get a look at her face.

He had not expected a response, preparing to spend the entire flight trying to coax a single word from her. But she surprised him when she nodded her head ever-so-slightly and mumbled into her knees, "I just wanted to be by myself." Her deep voice was thick with unshed tears.

He could sense her barriers slipping as her raw emotions pelted him through the Force. Guilt. Anger. Disbelief. The Skywalker twins had never been identical to the eye, but it sometimes baffled him how identical they could be in the Force. "I know what you mean," he replied honestly as he leaned against the wall and scooted down to sit beside her.

She lifted her head and looked over to him, her dark eyes shadowed with grief. They had always faced everything together. He and her. She knew him better and understood him better than anyone. Slowly she began to open up to him, lowering those barriers that she had been meticulously constructing just moments ago. He felt what she felt. Her pain was his and his was hers. No words were exchanged, yet they both understood and suddenly, the small room in which they now sat was not large enough to contain the sorrow that they now silently shared. It spilled out into the universe surrounding them, flowing away from them like rainwater down a mountain, destructive and nurturing at the same time.

He put an arm around her and pulled her to him. Again, she did not protest but rested her head on his shoulder submissively. It should've been easy to comfort her, he thought, he had but to simply tell her what he yearned to hear. Yet he had never been able to lie to her and he wouldn't start to today. He squeezed his eyes shut. What did he believe? The silence taunted him. The silence of her, of space…of death itself. He felt her arm wrap around him possessively. She seemed to be waiting, pleading for him to come to his conclusion – no matter what it might be.

He drew in a long breath, gathering his resolve. He knew which words to say and he knew them to be true. Several more heartbeats fluttered by and he opened his eyes. She lifted her head and looked at him and he attempted a weak smile. His mouth opened but any sounds were slow to come to him until finally he whispered, "It's not your fault."

And his words released their tears.


	42. Chapter 42

It is Your Destiny…

Millennium Falcon_ – en route to Deep Space_

She had dressed while Luke brewed her some tea. Han had hovered around him in the galley but didn't quite seem able to find any words to say; probably had no idea where to begin. Luke was sure the phenomenon was a foreign one to the outspoken pilot. But he had no time to dedicate to setting Han straight, so he left him in the galley with his own thoughts, sure that he would be able to sort them out eventually. Now the twins were back in the Captain's quarters. Leia was sitting on the bed with her legs drawn up beneath her, sipping on her hot tea and watching Luke pace the room.

They had talked about Bail Organa's death and everything that had happened to her. Her strength seemed to come back as she found the courage to say those things out loud. Then it had been his turn. He had told her about Obi Wan's death, but more importantly, he had shared Obi Wan's story of time travel and secrets and fixing the future. He would've never guessed in a million years that she would've had a secret that would easily overshadow his.

She had known…for _years_.

It had been difficult for her to admit and even more difficult for him to believe and now they both soaked in his stunned silence – had been for what seemed like an eternity.

"I wish you'd say something," she finally whispered over her cup of tea.

"I don't know what to say, Leia." And he didn't. His shock had easily turned into anger, too easily, and he was trying to understand it and control it.

"I didn't have the entire picture. I thought it was just about…me," she added weakly.

He made a noise in the back of his throat and slung daggers at her with his eyes.

Her spine straightened. "_What?_" she spat back, her anger now rising. "The message never said anything about saving the Jedi Order or…or the Dark Side and father and…anything."

"I'm sure it didn't," he replied, half-laughing and half wanting to scream or cry. He tried not to imagine what could've been done if he had had that same knowledge all these years. Perhaps Obi Wan would still be alive.

She placed her tea down on the headboard shelf and stood. "And what is that supposed to mean?" He recognized her stance, she was primed for battle.

He turned on her, violently, and ignored the twinge of guilt he felt when he saw her flinch. "I mean, that is just like you to ignore the rules and everyone's warnings. Don't you even realize what you've done?"

"_Me?_" She reared her head back, recovering quickly from her small falter. "But it wasn't _me_."

"But it _is_ you." He pointed at her fiercely, half expecting lightning to shoot out of his fingertip. "It's how you act now in regards to the Force. You are so strong in it, yet…yet you don't take it seriously."

She didn't reply. In a lightsaber battle between the two of them, it would be any man's game as to who would win – depending on the day and the circumstances – one may easily take the other or vice versa. But in the battle of words, she had always been the vanquisher. Until today. He took no comfort in the victory.

He could tell that she was biting her lower lip, once again on the verge of falling apart. He had just comforted her and helped her regain her strength and now here he was pushing her back over the edge. Warning bells were ringing inside of his head, yet he couldn't stop. "Do you realize that you knowing may have impacted things in ways that you can't even imagine? That you could've somehow derailed what would've most probably happened anyway had you not known? That you could've ruined everything?" _That you could be responsible for Obi Wan's death?_ He balled his fists at the thought. If he could punch fate at that moment he would've…gladly.

"Do I realize it?" She replied, her voice breaking. "It's all I've thought of since I heard that stupid message!" She turned away, hugging herself with her arms. He could literally _see_ her pain. "Everything I've done. Everything that's happened. Every word I've said since that day, I wonder if I'm not somehow screwing everything up. It's been torture. It _is_ torture. But…" She turned back to him and he was surprised by the tears rolling down her cheeks. "It's impossible to undo what's already been done. And _I'll_ have to live with that," she said, pointing at herself. And then she stormed toward the 'fresher, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands, her voice rising as she spat over her shoulder, "Not her!"

"This isn't _just_ about Han, you know," he replied. "This is about so much more."

She laughed, a tortured laugh. "I'm not talking about Han," she whispered. "And I certainly know that now. But I most certainly didn't know that then. And I can't take it all back." She came to stand in the doorway, her porcelain skin streaked and blotchy. "How much worse do you want me to feel, Luke? Tell me and I'll do my best to feel as miserable as you deem necessary."

The sight of her wrenched at something inside of him. He felt terrible and inside he was grateful that the emotion had finally come to him on its own. He dropped his hands down and sighed. "You feeling miserable won't solve anything."

"It will apparently give you some satisfaction," she replied haughtily as she stepped back into the room. "For Sith's sake, I've never _seen_ you this angry."

"I'm not angry," he lied and she raised her eyebrows up to him. "Not anymore," he amended, coaxing a smile from her. And he realized she was right. What was done was done and there was nothing to do but move forward. Although he couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed with his sister, but he knew that she could probably see that in his eyes so it was no use putting any more words to it. "Let's not fight," he said softly. "We'll have to face this together and our fighting will only make matters worse."

"Maybe you're right," she replied and somehow he knew that she wasn't talking about what he had just said.

He watched her as she disappeared into the 'fresher again, but the door remained opened so he spoke to it, "Right about what? Us working together?"

"Yes, of course you're right about that. But that's not what I was talking about." She walked back into the captain's quarters and began to straighten the bed and gather her things. "You're right about me and the Force. I've got to take my powers more seriously, my role in the Order. I've wasted more time fighting my destiny and worrying about things of no consequence…" Her words trailed off as her thoughts seemed to linger somewhere outside of that room. She shook her head. "I need to refocus." Her eyes met his, "And I'm sorry. For everything."

He wondered once again at the power she wielded with mere words and a look. They were different, in more ways than just their looks. It was unfair to force his destiny upon her. She would always walk down her own path. "_I'm_ sorry," he said and meant it. He took the few steps across the room that separated them and drew her into his arms. "We'll figure this out. _All_ of it. Together."

She buried her face into his chest and they stood that way for a long time.


	43. Chapter 43

A/N: Hi! I'm back with this story from the dead. Literally, I had just about given up and announced the time of death. But then, lo and behold, I received a PM from Solo Smirk offering a plot bunny that I then went running with - life blood pumping through the veins of my story once again! So this chapter is dedicated to **Solo Smirk** with great thanks on sending that PM and waking up my muse from where she was resting.

I would also like to thank, as always, my beta reader, **Zyra** and two new beta readers that have also been a fantastic help: **Solo Smirk** and **Lady Peter**. I hope this chapter and those that are to follow will prove to have been worth the wait. :-)

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><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

_The Lounge of the_ Millennium Falcon_ – One Day Later_

Leia Skywalker watched in silence as Han, Chewbacca, Luke, Cracken and Madine discussed their path forward. War, it would seem, was inevitable. She, in all her young years, had never seen war. In childhood stories, her father and that previous generation of Jedi had prevented war. When she flew her simulators and practiced her drills, war had been a romantic notion of sorts. Heroes were made in battle. Bad guys always fell to the good. Yet all of that had been shattered by the harsh reality of death. Obi Wan and Bail were gone. The Light had not completely obliterated the Dark. It was all still very difficult to comprehend.

She watched as Han Solo spoke with the other men. He looked different, brooding. She hadn't really seen him since he had supposedly defected and she took a moment to study him. He had gained some weight and his hair was no longer in a military clip but more shaggy with disobedient locks sticking out wildly here and there. There was a uniform-length carpet of stubble on his face and she wondered if it was intentional or just a byproduct of the hectic pace over the last few days. He was handsome, especially now with that determined set to his jaw. Her heart twisted at the thought. The irony of it all wasn't lost on her; now that she was old enough (and inclined apparently!) to pursue a relationship she'd only vaguely contemplated before, she had sworn off all childish shenanigans involving him. So how he looked, what she felt it was all a moot point.

She thought back to the message that had started the entire ordeal. The small holo of a woman pleading with her about a future that was now etched upon her mind as it once had been in the innards of Artoo Detoo. Whoever that mysterious messenger had been, however, it hadn't been her, she decided. It hadn't been _this_ Leia sitting here now facing this particular future. And this Leia would no longer entertain thoughts of some other being that had lived some other life, some time ago. This was _her_ life and it would be different.

"Leia, what do you think?"

The question came from her brother and she could tell from his expression that he knew full well that she hadn't been listening.

Luke pressed his lips together, his rising annoyance with her evident. "She'll come back to Coruscant with me," he said to the others without waiting for her to respond. "We have to report to the Jedi Council, regardless."

Even though her brother was speaking, all eyes remained trained on her – studying her as if trying to figure her out. Cracken and Madine looked worried and confused; Luke, impatient and annoyed. Chewbacca, the Wookiee and the most difficult to read, looking as best as she could tell…sad. And Han. Han, for his part, looked simply resolute. She lowered her gaze to the table, unable to face all of their scrutiny any longer and with that, the conversation continued.

Listening half-heartedly to the rest of the meeting, it was evident that the New Republic had indeed all but declared war and their response to the Imperials' actions against herself and Bail Organa were to be swift and sure. It would be interesting to report to the Jedi Council and find out if they would respond in kind. Leia looked forward to getting back to the Galactic Capital and regaining some normalcy in her life. It felt as if her entire universe had been tilted on its axis and up and down and left and right weren't where they were supposed to be anymore. She had a great pressing urge to be 'righted' and she only hoped that stepping foot on Coruscant would do the trick.

Cracken and Madine were the first to exit the airlock and return to their docked ship. Next, Han coupled the _Millennium Falcon_ with Luke's StealthX and the twins bid a temporary goodbye. When Han finally docked with Leia's X-wing it had been Chewbacca that escorted her to the airlock and attached the docking ring. In fact, if theWookiee hadn't continued to hail Han over the intercom (against Leia's wishes), she had been convinced that the man would've been content in letting her leave without even saying a final goodbye.

But arrive he finally did, all the while muttering apologies and excuses about something going awry on the ship all the while wringing his hands clean with a grease-smudged rag. Chewbacca warfled his farewell to Leia and then seemed to offer Han some assurance that he would fix whatever it was that had broken. Han gruffly thanked the Wookiee and Chewie lumbered down the curved corridor leaving the two humans alone. And there they stood in an awkward silence as Leia lamely performed another cursory check of her equipment and Han looked upon her as if she were not real.

"Hey," Han finally spoke. "I didn't get to tell ya, but I'm real sorry about everything. 'Bout the Viceroy and Kenobi."

Leia nodded, taking his condolences for what they were. Disregarding everything, they had at least become friends. "Thank you," she replied. And at the prospect of another long silence, she continued, "You know, there'll be memorials for them both."

Han's posture tensed up. "Yeah, about that. I'm…not the funeral kinda guy." And then added quickly, "Besides, it's not exactly like I can go showing my face around those Republic circles anymore."

She nodded, accepting his second excuse as more palatable than the first. He was an undercover agent now, how could she have forgotten that? "You're right. I wasn't thinking."

"Hey, uh," he stopped and seemed unable to find the right words. "Tell Winter..."

Leia nodded knowingly. "I'll tell her."

* * *

><p>Later in her X-wing during the quick jump through hyperspace Leia wondered if she would ever see Han Solo again. Not to fall in love, not to catch a glimpse of some future he was supposed to hold for her, but just…because.<p> 


	44. Chapter 44

A/N: Thanks to Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter for their suggestions, corrections and guidance!

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><p>It is Your Destiny…<p>

_Coruscant_

The scaling city towers of Coruscant looked different to Leia. The air smelled odd and she felt like a stranger in what had once been her hometown. In her heart she knew that it was she that had changed and not her beloved city. She was returning heavy-hearted and perhaps a bit jaded and the 'rightness' that she had hoped to find here, she now realized, would not be so easily regained.

The universe, in all of its deviance and ugliness, had left her feeling misguided and powerless. The Force, her greatest ally, had not proven invincible or immune as she had so often been taught. It was as if the core foundations upon which she was raised had been at the very least…shaken. As she gazed upon the duracrete streets of the Galactic Capital with its great high rises that tickled the sky with their enormity, she wondered if Coruscant itself – and the Republic for which it stood – was similarly built upon such weakened foundations. Was the threat of its topple just as real or imminent? All that she had been taught, the very principles that she had guided her life by, now held new meaning for her; teasing and eating at her instead of bolstering and strengthening her.

Luke, as he stood next to her, seemed rejuvenated by recent events, and seemed to be in a rush to see everyone, to gather together and strategize. She felt his belief and commitment thrumming stronger than ever through the Force in stark contrast to her own. As he scuttled along, her feet found it hard to hurry toward yet another strategy and the possibility of another mission. The seeds of doubt plagued her and tempered her resolve. Seeing everyone also meant _telling_ everyone and recounting a tale that she had been doing her damnedest to stop from replaying in her mind. She wondered also what Luke intended to do with the new information she had shared with him. It wasn't the wisest of things to do, she knew, entering the Jedi Temple harboring doubts and secrets.

"What will you tell everyone?" Leia asked as the twins climbed aboard a hover taxi on their way to the Jedi Temple.

Luke studied the busy streets streaming by outside of his window. It was a habit he had developed ever since Byss – the habit of looking toward anything but at her. "I'll tell them everything I know about what happened on Byss," he said.

"And the other?" She asked referring, as he knew that he knew, to her secret, a secret that seemed so much bigger and more important – _serious_ - now that she had shared it with him.

Luke shook his head. "Nothing," he replied and by the strained set of his jaw that she could make out in his profile, he looked pained by the admission.

Leia accepted his answer in silence with a slight nod of her head. She then turned toward the window herself, finding the strange faces amongst the crowds pleasantly distracting.

"What will you do?" She heard Luke ask. "About him?"

Leia shook her head, her eyes never leaving the parade of faces streaming passed her window. This was something she had already decided yet the prospect of admitting it out loud gave it a reality that she was hesitant to bring forth. She let her mind go numb while the parade of faces outside her window blurred into nothing more than a collage of colors that could not be made into anything in particular and then she whispered, "Nothing."

* * *

><p>A young, scrawny looking Padawan met the pair at the gates and escorted them through the entry gardens. This was where she and Luke had trained in all manners of the Force and she looked upon the grounds fondly. The training pavilions, where she had sparred many times over, were mostly empty, their light stone foundations sprinkled with only a few practicing Padawans – the clash of their training blades cutting through the silence of the meditation grounds like a cough in a library.<p>

As they walked further toward the Temple, all eyes easily found Luke and Leia and just as easily looked away. She wondered just how much everyone knew. After spending so much time away from other Jedi the potent rhythm and thrum of Force awareness that was the normal atmosphere of the Jedi Temple felt oppressive and over-bearing. Leia raised the hood on her cloak and tightened up her formation beside her brother. She had never felt so vulnerable and exposed while walking on these grounds and her pace finally quickened to match her brothers as they neared the Temple steps.

It was then; at the moment the rising stone steps of the Jedi Temple came into view, that she caught sight of her. It was a clear, sunny day and Winter's white hair seemed to catch and reflect every ray of sunlight within parsecs of where she stood. Leia's feet stopped moving. Suddenly all awareness of the probing Force-sensitives surrounding her dropped away as if she had stepped inside of a bubble. For a time she didn't even breathe, it felt as if her heart had completely stopped beating as well.

It had taken a moment for her brother and their escort to realize that she had fallen behind. "Leia?" Luke called from a few paces in front of her. "What's wrong?" He began to look around, searching for danger.

Leia shook her head. "I can't do this," she whispered.

The Jedi Council, the Chief of State, the gods-damned Senate hall, she could face all of them, but not _her_. She spun around quickly, wobbly legs stumbling back toward the gate but she was immediately met by a solid wall of flesh as she collided with someone walking swiftly towards her.

"Come with me," the voice said, a strong arm wrapping around her and guiding her not toward the exit, but toward one of the meditation trails. It was the voice of her father and it had never sounded so sweet.

Leia allowed him to steer her onto a deserted path not even turning around to see how her brother or any of the others were reacting to her hasty retreat. Guilt quickly replaced the panic that had blossomed inside of her. How could she avoid her best friend in what was surely her most desperate time of need?

"I should go back," she said, stopping and twisting out of her father's embrace.

He had said nothing and up until then, she hadn't even seen his face. Looking upon him was like seeing Coruscant again. He looked somehow different, no longer a father so distant in experience and age but now just a man with his own life experiences, his own tragic story to carry around just as she had now. At that moment he was her kin in spirit as well as blood. And almost immediately, the tears came.

Her father wordlessly pulled her back into his arms and whispered soothing words that caressed her very soul, tending to those wounds that were at the deepest parts of her. _Her friend would understand and share her loss. It was not her fault. He was there for her. They all were there for her. She must be strong._

Anakin kissed the top of her head at those last words and somewhere within his speech and his embrace, Leia found that strength. It had crawled down deep inside of her belly, wound around itself like a saber cat and settled there. Luke had not been able to coax it out of her, so dormant it had been since her failure on Byss. But with each syllable of her father's words the latent potency inside of her awoke, stretching its legs, turning about a few times in lazy circles and finally arching its back and coming to life.

"That's my girl," her father said, as if sensing her reawakening and recommitment through the Force.

"I failed, Father. I failed," Leia whispered, wiping her eyes and stepping out of his embrace. She had failed at protecting Bail Organa; she had failed at playing politics with the enemy. Ben Kenobi's death during her rescue was just as much at her hand than anyone's. And she had failed at the harmless game she thought she had been playing with her future and Han Solo. It was all a failure and she admitted to it now realizing that her father could not possibly comprehend all that she was speaking of. But that somehow didn't matter. It was the first time she had admitted the fact (the fear!) out loud.

Her father chuckled, a response she found incongruous to the situation and how desperate she felt at that moment. He swiped a tear from her cheek with the knuckle of his forefinger and said with a sympathetic smile, "Leia, to stumble, to fail, to weep, there is no shame in any of that. They are all badges of honor, for those who have never failed are those who have never aspired to do anything of consequence whatsoever."

She found herself returning his faint grin. And whether it was his words or the very act of setting the fears inside of her free by finally giving them a voice, she felt better and she let out a small chuckle as she looked back on the entire exchange. Just as he had always been there to comfort her through every scraped knee or sore throat when she was little, her father still retained that uncanny ability to make everything better with a few words and a hug. "I will never outgrow this, will I?" she asked, her voice hopeful as she swiped her nose and looked up to him.

Anakin Skywalker smiled, seeming to instinctively know what she was talking about, and said, "By the Force, I sincerely hope not."

They pair hugged again and then headed toward the Temple to return to the others. As they walked closer, she lowered the hood of her cape and let the sun shine warm her face. She was ready to face Winter, the Council and whatever the future might have in store feeling (finally!) as if a part of her world had, in fact, been righted.


	45. Chapter 45

A/N: Thanks, as always, to Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter. Beta readers rock.

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><p>It is Your Destiny…<p>

_Coruscant_

Winter Organa waited at the top of the stone steps of the Jedi Temple. She knew that her friend, Leia Skywalker, would eventually return. Her mother was already on her way back to Alderaan to begin preparations for her father's services. The two women had been on Coruscant to settle some of Bail Organa's affairs and to witness the swearing in of his replacement. When everything had been done, Winter had told her mother that she had unfinished business to attend to at the Capital City and would be following her to Alderaan after she saw to it. That unfinished business had just turned and ran at the sight of her, which was precisely why she had come.

Winter had been privy to detailed accounts of what had happened on Byss. There wasn't a report that she had read that would implicate her friend with any sort of blame. But she knew Leia and she knew the amount of responsibility that she would try to bear regardless of the circumstances – of the facts. Winter had gone through the conversation many times over in her mind. The tired condolences stating the obvious fact that it wasn't Leia's fault never seemed to play out in any other way than the most predictable – having no meaning or impact on Leia whatsoever. That outcome was not acceptable to the young noble, so she vowed that she would not say it.

After a long while, she caught a glimpse of Leia returning, her father following behind her as if he were the child and she the parent. Winter recognized immediately the change in Leia's posture and overall demeanor. Whatever had transpired between the two of them in the gardens had benefited Leia immensely, it had transformed the girl that had turned tail and run to the girl walking resolutely toward her at this very moment.

There were many things that rested on the shoulders of Leia Skywalker. Winter knew this as many in this Temple did. No one spoke directly of it. Perhaps that was because no one could quite put their finger on it and therefore could not find the words for it. But it was there all the same. And when Leia stumbled, all of those people gasped. They gasped because they knew that her failure was theirs, that it would inevitably affect them just as if they had fallen themselves.

It was in knowing this, that Winter approached her friend. She knew that her words would have to pick Leia up, buttress her and prepare her for whatever the future held in store. Whatever she said would have to add to the momentum that Anakin Skywalker had just set into motion. This was about more than sympathy and condolences. Winter knew this, even if Leia did not.

"I'm sorry," Leia whispered as soon as she was close enough for Winter to hear.

Winter did not respond but merely pulled her friend to her and hugged her tightly. Whether the apology was for running just now or for what she felt was her responsibility in Bail's death, it didn't matter. Winter took it and let it settle between them in the silence. When she finally pulled away, Leia met her with an even gaze.

After a moment, Leia said, "I will serve, in whatever capacity that I am able to, to bring those responsible for Bail's death to justice."

Leia's words were practiced and her tone severe. Winter didn't doubt that she meant every syllable of them. But there was a memory that came to her of her father. It was a conversation she had with him years ago when she told him that she could easily recognize the change in him when he turned into a political figure, a stalwart politician and not her dad. That is what she saw in Leia. It was the Jedi, the budding politician or the soldier that stood before her and said those words. But Winter wanted her friend. And that is what Leia needed to know.

"Leia," Winter said slowly, deliberately, "I've lost my father and any illusions that I may have held that all humanity was inherently good. Do not also make me lose my best friend. Do not take that away from me with your stoic resolve and hidden guilt. I can see you in there hiding from me, just as plainly as I saw you run away mere moments ago." She shook her head. "Don't do it. If you want justice to be served fine, but do not let them take you away from me."

Winter watched as Leia pressed her lips together tightly. The young princess had been blessed with the gift of incredible memory, but she was not able to read people's minds. She did not have the Force sense necessary to reach inside of someone and identify their intent or emotions. Whatever passed over Leia, she wasn't sure, but it did pass. Leia's features then relaxed and her lips curled up slightly as she said, "Thank you."

* * *

><p>The gathering of Jedi Knights and Masters was unprecedented. Leia had never seen the Council Chambers so full. The New Republic was at war. One of their own Masters had been struck down. How would the Jedi respond? Those were the topics of discussion for the past few hours.<p>

Leia, Luke and her father had recited their versions of what had happened on Byss. A lengthy discussion then followed with New Republic Military Leaders via holocall. The New Republic would respond to Bail Organa's death and Grand Moff Tarkin's threats. Their fleet was assembling and their war room was in the ready. The coalition of Jedi and the military's time had come. In no uncertain terms, the New Republic was calling in their chips.

Leia fidgeted in her seat. The brief encounter with her father and subsequent emotionally charged meeting with Winter had her insides churning. The current debate was proving to be more calming and grounding for her in contrast. A Jedi found direction and purpose when they were calm, so she concentrated on the words swirling around her and grasped at that inner peace that they somehow promised. The more she focused, the more primed for action she found herself becoming.

"Because they expect us to fall in line," one of the Masters was saying. "That is reason enough to at least hesitate."

"This isn't a game," Leia's father replied. "We must decide if we feel war is necessary and then act. Dangling our support like a Dejarik move to the military will only cause dissention within our own ranks."

"You yourself just dismissed the need for Jedi involvement in this war," the Master replied.

"I am well aware of what I said. I am against sending Jedi under the command of the military like common soldiers." Anakin's eyes tracked to his children. "However, I will support whatever this Council decides. But that decision should be steadfast and unwavering. We are in or we are out. It should not be a political power play."

Leia stood, a fire burning in her belly as she spoke, "Our Jedi have been training with the New Republic military for just this situation. We are not a weapon at the New Republic's disposal but their interests are our concern. The New Republic is a client of the Jedi, just as any citizen in need is our client. If we fundamentally agree with the Republic's stance in this war, then we are honor bound to serve them and all the people that they represent."

"Ours should not be a hasty decision," Master Fisto replied.

"To plan and strategize, it is the time for the New Republic, hmmm?" Master Yoda said. "To meditate and comprehend, it is the time for the Jedi."

Leia remained standing as the entire council began to nod their heads and agree. _Patience_. She could hear the word come across Master Yoda's lips as if he were speaking it directly to her at that very moment. A need for action and a desire to yield to the Jedi teaching warred inside of her like her very own civil unrest. Luke began to tug at her robes as he whispered for her to sit down.

"Something to say, you still have, Jedi Skywalker?" Master Yoda asked as he observed her standing in the gallery.

"I don't agree with meditating and deliberating while thousands of soldiers are sent to their deaths against an enemy that is just as much ours as theirs."

"This enemy, the Empire," Master Yoda began but Leia interrupted.

"The Sith," she said and the word drew a silence from the crowd. "Master Kenobi succumbed from a fatal lightsaber wound." This declaration was met with low mumblings and Jedi shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

"Not the only ones with lightsabers, are the Jedi and the Sith," Master Yoda replied.

"They are toying with us. Trying to draw us out by taking one of our own with our own weapons. We must not fall victim to their games," her father said.

"Their _games_ are murder and destruction," Leia replied. "And I will not stand by while our brothers-in-arms fall victim to that."

"Leia," Luke whispered, his voice a warning that she did not heed.

"What are you saying, Jedi Skywalker?" Master Windu asked.

"I'm saying, I trained for this day as a soldier as well as a Jedi…," Leia began and then stopped. She had planned to stand her ground, draw a line in the sand and tell them that she would fight no matter what they decided. But another type of training kicked in just then and stopped her. Her mother's lessons in diplomacy from the time she could walk and then, most recently, Bail Organa's and in his memory, she reorganized the message in her mind and tried a different approach. "Several of my fellow Knights and I have trained as Jedi as well as soldiers. Could we not employ that faction of the Order to the cause? Allow our Jedi _soldiers_ to fulfill their duty. We will aid the effort from the skies, with starships and turbolasers instead of lightsabers. Perhaps then we could help the New Republic win this war before the necessity of hand-to-hand combat draws the rest of the Jedi into to their ranks."

"Time," Master Kolar responded. "I appreciate your excellent point, Jedi Skywalker, but we still need _time_ to consider all of these possibilities."

"When I arrived in this room it occurred to me that I have never been surrounded by more Jedi than I am today. When we disperse, so shall our numbers. Masters will return to their Padawans on distant planets across the galaxy. The _time_ to make this momentous decision is now while we all stand together both literally and figuratively," Leia said and then took her seat.

"Inevitable, war will be," Master Yoda said with a sigh. "Feel it, I do. Take the young Skywalker's advice, I would."

There was a rush of conversation following Yoda's words. The small, frail Master did not have a history of being taken lightly.

"A concession then?" Master Windu said. "Fifteen Knights have completed the joint training. Only _those_ will be afforded to the New Republic and one of our Masters will aid their commander. I propose that these should be our terms."

There was a long moment of silence before Mace Windu's proposal was seconded by Master Yoda himself. A few more voices of approval followed. The following approvals became moot, but they were voiced nonetheless. Leia watched for just one approval, but her father never said a word.

* * *

><p><em>Alderaan (a few days later)<em>

The memorial for Bail Organa was as beautiful as the man himself had once been. For Leia, it brought a certain amount of peace and closure as those types of occasions are designed to do. At the small, personal gathering afterwards, she allowed herself to enjoy the company of her family and the close friends of the Organas. These were the memories that she would later draw upon as she faced whatever future tomorrow would bring. She did her best to come to terms with that reality while absorbing everything the day had to offer; beginnings and endings, conversations and shared silences, happiness and sober reflections.

Leia sought a moment alone as she wandered through the back gardens of the Organa estate. She and Winter had played tag along these twisted pathways and hidden from each other amongst the dense foliage and massive sculptures. They had shared childhood secrets whispered in each other's ear through girlish giggles. The garden had seemed much larger then and its periphery much more secure. Heartache and pain had never breached its gates, until now. She felt a familiar presence approaching. It was her father. He had developed a habit as of late, of hovering around her, always ready to swoop in and save her from her spiraling thoughts. She was secretly grateful for it.

"Hello, Father," she called to the approaching footsteps and was surprised when both her mother and her father rounded the hedged bend. "And Mother," she amended with a smile as she hurried to close the distance between them. Her mother was the quiet calm amidst the turbulence that was the Skywalkers. She noticed that her parents were holding hands.

"Leia, we'll be leaving shortly. We've already told your brother goodbye," Padme whispered as she accepted a warm hug from her daughter.

"I should be going, too. I'm due to report in," Leia responded.

Her Father looked ready to speak, perhaps remind her of how he felt about her plans but she noticed her Mother squeeze his hand making him hesitate. The couple exchanged a quick glance and when Anakin looked back to Leia he merely smiled and nodded his consent.

Leia marveled at the exchange. Happier wouldn't quite describe the change in her parents that she had witnessed as of late. Solidified would be more appropriate. Was it tragedy that had brought them back together? Either way, her father seemed more balanced when tethered, as it were, to her mother. Leia studied them for a moment. Having inherited so much of her father's willfulness; she envied him his built-in counterweight. "Well, this is it, then," she finally said. "Until we meet again."

The threesome hugged through another round of goodbyes until Leia finally broke off to find her brother. The Skywalker twins were due back on Coruscant.


	46. Chapter 46

A/N: Thanks to Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter. Because of them, I'm still writing, and writing, and writing. :-)

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><p>It is Your Destiny…<p>

_The Rebublic Frigate: _The Eclipse

Han Solo tucked the _Falcon_ into a small, exclusive docking bay on the Republic frigate, _The Eclipse_. His marching orders had been abruptly changed. The Republic was at war. He was no longer to be an undercover agent completing odd jobs and covert assignments. The charade of his 'defection' had come to an end. When the boarding ramp lowered onto the _Eclipse's_ durasteel decking, it was _General_ Han Solo who emerged, his dress uniform noticeably heavier with the addition of rank. Han had been promoted and challenged to lead the squadron of StealthX fighters at the forefront of this war.

The assignment had been unexpected. There was a time when Han Solo had strived to earn such a distinction. Now, however, after enjoying the freedoms his recent duty had afforded him, the honor did not come entirely without its reservations. The long trip through hyperspace to meet with the _Eclipse _had been filled with introspection and redirection on his part. Han had left Coruscant nursing a nagging sting that he had not been rewarded with the role that was rightfully his. True, his enjoyment of the new role had softened the blow but the perceived failure had not gone altogether unnoticed. To return now to the job he felt he had earned and realize that he did not want it? There was an irony there that even he could appreciate.

There were also misgivings on _why_ he may have been awarded the role. Han wasn't stupid. He understood that politics often promoted people more than merit. He knew the Jedi were leery of placing their Knights at the disposal of a seasoned, strong-willed general and that the military wanted someone who was not so enamored with the Jedi that they would be unable to stand their ground. He would be seen as a 'green' general by the Jedi and he had a reputation of having strong opinions regarding the Order with the military. Had both parties thought Han pliable enough to assuage their fears and meet their individual needs?

Regardless of all of this trepidation, there had been no hesitation in his acceptance. As a soldier, as an officer or as a man, Han Solo was never one to shy away from what duty mandated or required and he was never one to let politics get in his way. There would be time for the frivolous freedoms of anonymity and space travel to be found later and no matter what his superior's preconceived notions had been, he had no doubt that he would excel at his role. And besides, Cracken had agreed to let him keep his ship.

* * *

><p>Arriving during the crew's nighttime rotation, the newly appointed general was greeted and offered to be escorted directly to his quarters and although arrangements had been made for Chewbacca, he left his copilot to stay with the <em>Falcon<em>. The very real possibility that Chewie might get paired with someone else to fly the _Millennium Falcon_ during this war effort did not sit well with him. But the idea of abandoning the _Falcon_ in the docking bay to be catalogued as just another available vessel in the fleet was an even worse fate. With that in mind, Han thanked his massive counterpart for remaining with their ship and in that succinct form of communication that they had developed recently, the pair parted ways.

Han Solo had lived what could be described as a simple life, growing up on Corellia. So when he walked into his newly assigned quarters, he was hard pressed not to compare from whence he came to where he now stood. The accommodations were opulent and spacious. The idea that a military vessel would even have a _single_ chandelier had never crossed his mind until that very moment. From his vantage point, standing in the entryway foyer, he could not even see his bed. Unlike the enlisted men, or even officer's quarters, his cabin had actual doors and _rooms_.

"Is there a problem, General Solo?" His escort asked.

"What? No," Han replied, shaking off his brush of complete awe. He walked a few more paces into his living room and set his bag down on the couch. "What time is it by the ship's chrono?"

"Oh two hundred," the young soldier replied. "You have four hours until daybreak and you'll find your schedule on the datapad in your office."

Han looked toward the three doors he could see from his current vantage point.

"I should take the liberty to inform you that your first meeting will be with the assembled war council at zero seven hundred. The executive board room is just down the hall."

"Thanks," Han replied, impressed with the young man's knowledge.

The young man straightened into a military stance. "I've been assigned as your attaché. My services are at your disposal. Would you like to review your communiqués at present?"

"In the middle of the night?" Han asked, purposefully pumping some incredulity into his response. "At ease, soldier. What's your name?"

The soldier relaxed his stance. "Lieutenant Tonsk, sir."

"Tonsk? Your family from Corellia?"

"I am Corellian, sir. Although I did not spend the majority of my childhood on our home world."

"A Corellian's a Corellian in my book. Let's just get one thing straight before I cut you loose until the morning."

"Sir?"

"I'm not a fan of formal military," Han circled his hand around the room to indicate his surroundings and then pointed toward the Lieutenant's military posture, "stuff."

"Understood, sir."

"Right," Han replied. "Well, let's just say I don't expect you to be available to answer my every whim."

"Of course, not sir."

Han breathed a little easier, thankful that his message had so easily gotten through.

"You'll also have a droid for such things that I would be unable to perform logistically and such. His call sign and passcode are also on your datapad."

The newly ranked General shook his head and laughed. _Of course, it was not going to be that easy_. "Perfect," he said. "Let's get some rest, then. We'll talk more in the morning."

"As you say," Tonsk replied before bowing out of the cabin and cycling the door shut behind him.

Han stood for another moment surveying his surroundings. The durasteel decking was covered from wall to wall in his cabin and he happily realized that he would be able to walk around barefoot, something he had never done (at least not comfortably) on any ship. Immediately he kicked off his shoes and paced around a bit, enjoying this newfound novelty before he headed towards one of the doors to find the galley.

The pantry and cooling unit were well-stocked and Han gathered a few things in his arms and ventured off to find his room. The food was real, not rations or dehydrated meal units and his stomach growled at the welcomed change. He dumped his snacks on the oversized bed and returned to the main living quarters; there was something he wanted to do before the hustle of the morning would have him forgetting.

With only one door left to try, he easily found his new office and just as Tonsk had promised, on the desk sat a shiny new datapad. The device was encrypted to his military clearance and he easily navigated through its features to find what he was looking for. After punching in a few codes, Han set the unit down and returned to his bedroom. He opened the closet and picked through the several laundry bags that were hanging inside, selecting the largest one that he could find.

The chime to his quarters rang and Han cursed under his breath, thinking that his droid must've been stationed right outside his door. He lifted the bag off its clip and headed toward the galley. In the interest of time, he emptied the entire contents of the pantry into the bag and then fit whatever he could of the small cooling unit in the space that remained. When the chime rang again, he was already heading for the door.

The door cycled opened revealing a human-like droid, silver in color and more streamlined and rounded than other protocol droids Han had seen. "Welcome aboard the _Eclipse_, General Solo," the droid spoke with a female's voice which also took Han by surprise. "I am Tee-one-nine and I am at your complete disposal."

Han shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows as he surveyed this newly assigned minion. He had never been a big supporter of droids. "At my disposal?" He replied cheekily. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Of course, sir. You'll find that I am quite-"

"I need you to deliver this," Han said, interrupting the droid's speech and shoving the heavy laundry bag into its arms.

Tee-one-nine accepted the bag hesitantly. "As you command, sir. Although there are droids specifically designed for such utilitarian functions as delivering soiled clothing to the laundry service."

"Look, Tee-Nineteen," Han said.

"Pardon me for interrupting and correcting you, sir. But my designation is Tee-one-nine. The distinction may not seem important-"

"It's not. And that bag isn't going to the laundry level, understood?"

"No, sir, I must say that I don't understand and must perhaps enlighten you to the vast difference between any model designated with the nineteen as opposed-"

"I need you to deliver that bag to a stock light freighter docked in the executive hangar with the designation of _The_ _Millennium Falcon_."

"Yes, well, of course, although highly unusual this is not wholly uncommon. I once served a master who preferred his used eating utensils to be washed by hand instead of-"

"I don't care," Han replied, suddenly feeling exhausted. "Can you deliver this or not?"

"Why, yes. I would disconnect my own servomotors the millisecond you ever locate a task that I cannot complete, especially a task this-"

"Great," Han said and then added, "Thanks a trillion, Tee-Nineteen."

The flustered droid looked primed to reopen the debate regarding his name just as Han cycled the door shut.

"Gods, I hate droids," he muttered as he headed back to his bedroom.


	47. Chapter 47

A/N: Thanks to Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter. And Happy Star Wars Day! May the Fourth be With You!

* * *

><p>It is Your Destiny…<p>

Leia found herself back in her X-wing en route to the Republic Frigate _Eclipse_ to report as a member of the Shadow Strike squadron to none other than General Han Solo. Back on Coruscant, her brother Luke had not-so-gracefully taken the unexpected news and Leia had no trouble recalling his words or his admonishing tone: "_I sincerely hope you remember what you promised me about that."_

It bothered her on some level, her brother's autocratic directive for her to remember what she had promised. Her decision regarding Han Solo had been made, but it in no way should be construed as a concession for her holier-than-thou brother. The entire exchange had an unpleasant indignation singing hotly through her veins. She practiced her breathing techniques and did her best to convince her mind to concentrate on other things.

She moved on to her memories of Bail Organa's memorial services on Alderaan. Deep within her, she realized that she would most likely always nurse some responsibility for Bail's death but the Organas' assurances and entreaties had gone far with assuaging those feelings. She drew upon the memory of Winter's stoic calm and grace during the entire proceeding and she thought back to the short conversation she had had with Winter on the steps of the Jedi Temple back on Coruscant.

Winter's words, both voiced and unvoiced, had struck a chord within Leia. But then she realized that that had been precisely Winter's intent. Regardless she held them with her, cradling them delicately as one does a small child – hoping for the day that they are grown and able to walk on their own yet cherishing them all the while that you are able to hold on to them. Leia swallowed a hard lump rising in her throat her fingers flexed their pressured grip on the steering yolk as she breathed through the remnants of the torrent of emotions that had been swelling inside of her.

It was then, unbidden, that she saw her father's face and heard his words: "…_to stumble, to fail, to weep, there is no shame in any of that." _She closed her eyes and let it all steep inside of her, absorbing everything in all of its finest detail. Winter, her father, Luke and even Tarkin, she accepted them all as part of her; picturing the memories as delicate weaves in the very fiber of her being. Nothing was labeled as right or wrong, as failure or success, it just _was_. Then, drawing upon everything that she had inside of her; her natural abilities, her upbringing and training, Leia steeled herself against those memories, accepting them as one does a bill for services rendered and closing the proverbial door on that past.

She opened her eyes and her very first breath came as a gasp, like a newborn upon its arrival into being. She was left feeling bereft, as if some key component within the atmosphere had suddenly been removed, leaving the air breathable and sustainable yet…different. She blew the breath out, confident that each successive one would come easier with practice and time and gave it all no further thought.

* * *

><p><em>The Command Deck of the <em>Pride Of Tarlandia

Grand Moff Tarkin paced leisurely across the great bridge of the Imperial Star Destoyer, _The Pride of Tarlandia_. The vessel was sitting in deep space, nestled under a blanket of stars as it waited for the arrival of Grand Admiral Thrawn. Tarkin had placed much trust in his alien counterpart. It was not something he was entirely comfortable with. But his comfort had become secondary at this juncture of his career. After all, if he were to witness the fall of the Republic during his lifetime, he had already decided that drastic measures would have to be tolerated.

Drastic measures.

Tarkin settled his gaze on the stars twinkling through the viewport. They reminded him of the various schemes and operatives that he and Thrawn had scattered throughout the galaxy. They were all very different in their techniques and designs, and now they lay dormant like kindling awaiting its transformational spark. He wondered which pawn would eventually alight with fire. Would it be one of the Emperor's Hands that Thrawn had carefully recruited and tamed? Or would it be a more covert military insertion, such that Tarkin himself had orchestrated?

The Grand Moff wasn't privy to all of the Grand Admiral's plans, but neither was the Grand Admiral aware of Tarkin's. Those who study history could easily see that this mistrust might somehow play a role in their downfall. Tarkin studied and knew his history well as did Thrawn, yet he was somehow able to rationalize their actions. Those warning bells, which had been a constant buzzing somewhere in the back of his mind, had now all but faded away. Yes, he and Thrawn were different…smarter. They would not fall as those who had before them.

He turned away from the viewport. Who or what finally made the tide turn in their favor no longer mattered to him. He, who had been so against the Sith and had celebrated silently inside upon the death of the emerging Darth Sidious, had now realized his naive error. There really was only one weapon to fight against the Jedi and that was the Sith. Upon accepting that revelation, Tarkin had waited with bated breath as Thrawn drew in Sidious' secret agents known only as his Hands, grooming them and guiding them until he was their new puppet master. But, in the end, it had been a hollow victory.

The Hands of the Emperor had either lost some of their power through the death of their master, or they had always been weak. Either way, they were not the future of the Dark Side of the Force. They would never be an Emperor. Regardless, they would serve their purpose, it seemed, now at the hand of Thrawn.

His own designs had been more conventional: spies, double-agents, listening devices and such. As the Republic scrambled its fleet, it was hard to decipher which contingent would become the linchpin. Tarkin watched the moving pieces as he would those on a dejarik board, matching point with counterpoint. The Empire would have an answer to anything the Republic threw at it. And of course there was one last item that Tarkin had tucked away, quite literally, in his armory. A weapon of utter destruction that could unhinge the Republic from within. The Grand Moff smiled. He would live to see the end of the Republic. He was sure of it.

* * *

><p><em>Somewhere near the Outer Rim<em>

On the edge of an expansive continent, on a backwater planet not even listed on most star maps, there stood an old armory. Somewhere, sometime ago in this planet's history a great civil war had been waged. For although the galaxy did not care about its land or its politics, its peoples did. The war amongst them had long been settled, however, and the dark, dank hallways of the armory had been left to rot and decay – until recently. A band of people had been brought together to reclaim the armory and remake it to suit their needs. The hallways were now swept, the roof patched and the crumbling walls replaced. Deathly silence had been replaced by the sounds of voices and tools at work; the musty, dank smell replaced with homemade meals and fresh air. The place was alive again.

Anakin Skywalker walked through the hallways of the recently converted armory, greeted warmly by each passing face. Outside, far away in the galaxy, where the star charts were made, he knew that there was a war going on; a war that his own children had been drawn into. But here was where his war was being waged. His children were the future of the Jedi Order, there was no doubt about that. And through his efforts, outside of that war, he was determined to shape – in one way or another – what that future would look like.


	48. Chapter 48

A/N: Thanks, as always, to Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter.

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><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

Luke had been one of the first to arrive, landing his X-wing in the cavernous docking bay of the Republic Frigate, _Eclipse_. At a quick glance he recognized the saucer-shaped ship that had been Han Solo's _Millennium Falcon_ and a few other StealthX's that had already been berthed. He noted that his sister had not yet arrived.

As he performed a few last minute checks on his fighter, he began to pay attention to the voices echoing throughout the large space. Intermittently, over the whine of the engines of a newly arriving X-wing, he could follow the conversations going on around him.

"…something we don't know about," one Jedi Luke knew named Archandal, although everyone called him Arch, was saying.

"We all know how lucky he was at cards," another Jedi said. "Figures he would fall into some political nonsense that would _gift_ him a large promotion."

The voices faded as yet another set of repulsors hailed the arrival of one more X-wing. Luke knew they were talking about Han Solo. With so many other things on his mind, he hadn't given much thought to the idea of his friend's promotion, not in the context of how he may have come about earning it or his reaction to it. Luke realized quite suddenly, that he had even stopped considering Han as a friend. Not because he saw him as an enemy now, but because he saw him differently. In light of his sister's revelations back on the _Falcon_, Han was now an obstacle. Something Luke had to consider in his calculations. It was an unfortunate change and one that did not come easily to Luke, but something inside had told him that it was imperative and therefore he had accepted it as such.

Luke had always conformed to the duties that were set upon him, either by his father, his Master or by the Force itself. It was his sister who questioned everything, tested her boundaries as it were. Looking back on it now he had been an enabler of those bad habits; his father, too. Leia's little story of time-bending and lost love had exposed the great injustice for what it was. Luke twisted a stubborn locking nut on his X-wing and banged his knuckles when it finally, unexpectedly sprang free. He waved his hand, shaking the pain away. No, he thought, he would not tolerate his sister's frivolities any longer.

A relative quiet had descended upon the hangar once again. Turning his head toward the massive viewport, Luke felt the presence of his sister before he finally spotted her ship as a small dot approaching in the distance. Around him over a dozen X-wings were powering down and lifting their astromech droids out of their sockets. Leia would be one of the last to arrive. He set about performing the last checks on his ship as his droid, Artoo, fiddled around alongside of him.

It wasn't long until the sounds of his sister's StealthX stole the silence away once again. Luke took a deep breath; his back to his sister's approaching ship. He was not so delusional as to think that his actions could in any way control or even influence his strong-willed sister. No, he understood that for what it was. He could only guide and perhaps marginally influence her, but real change would be something that he would have to bear solely on his own shoulders. If the last month had done anything, it had fortified his dedication to that ethereal idea of serving the greater good and although he had thought that he had always strived to be the best Jedi that he could be, his previous devotion now paled in comparison. Whereas before it was his own sense of self-worth, fulfillment or destiny that had driven him, it somehow felt like everything depended on it now.

Luke stood watching as the canopy of his sister's X-wing levered open, watched as the helmeted figure climbed out of the cockpit and scrambled down the rungs of the exit ladder. She stood next to her ship, already speaking with one of the grounds crew as she removed her helmet. When the crewman turned his attention to her ship, she turned her attention to her brother. From across the hangar bay they held each other's gaze. She was not happy with him, that was immediately apparent. But she had not been happy with him when they had parted ways on Coruscant. He raised his eyebrows to her, taunting her to reopen the conversation with all of the arrogance of someone who knows they are right. She mirrored his look, mockingly, daringly and in that moment she looked like the young girl that he used to share a tent with on camp-outs in the woods near their childhood home. His face cracked open into a wide smile and from across the hangar, his twin did the same.

* * *

><p>"It was fine when he was just a trainer, but are we really expected to take orders from him? He isn't a Jedi Master; he isn't even a Jedi of any kind."<p>

Luke had finished his final checks on his ship and had joined the growing crowd surrounding Arch and a few other Jedi. The group was joined by some enlisted men that Luke did not know. They were men who were apparently part of the _Eclipse's_ crew. The young men had been volleying comments back and forth concerning their new commander; the men of the _Eclipse's_ crew and the newly arrived Jedi comparing notes on the boss, so to speak. Luke had kept any comments or opinions to himself, content in classifying his own feelings about Han all by himself. His sister, on the other hand, had heard very little of the conversation before she felt the need to chime in.

"Are you of the opinion that only _Jedi_ can assess a situation and make decisions?" She had asked, speaking to Archandal. "Perhaps we should just have the entire Republic pack their bags and close up shop? Leave the Jedi to run everything?"

"You know that's not what I'm saying," Arch replied. "It works better as a collaboration. At least we should have a Jedi Master on board. What if we find ourselves in a moral dilemma with General Solo's orders?"

"Then _question_ them," Leia said, a mixture of incredulity and severity in her voice. "Do you really need to have your _Master_ here to tell you that?"

Luke watched Leia as she spoke and then glanced around at the men surrounding her. The group was looking upon Leia as if she was ruining their fun. Luke smirked. Perhaps she was. As he considered her, the way she looked, all primed for action and her words, as they always were -challenging and enlightening - he realized that he was not mad at her. Although keeping his distance and treating her severely certainly helped with his silent resolve, he knew, in that moment as he always known, that he loved her and admired her and most instinctively and inherently wanted desperately to protect her. Perhaps, he realized then, that his greatest undertaking would be balancing that fact with the momentous task that he had set before him.

Silence had once again swallowed the room with its invisible presence. Leia's comments had indeed put an end to the game of gossiping and complaining and the group now shuffled around uncomfortably with not much left to say. Luke watched his sister eye every one of the men standing there, including him, before she turned on her heel and walked away. It took a moment, but only a brief one, before one of the Eclipse's crewmen spoke.

"Hmph," the stranger snarled loudly. "How you like that?" He then asked to no one in particular. The Jedi in the group remaining quiet, probably owing to the fact that they knew that Luke was Leia's sister. The man apparently did not. He continued, "We all wouldn't even be here, on the brink of war if it weren't for her incompetence. Am I right?"

The crowd was silent. The other crewmen, if they didn't know the dynamics of the situation, seemed to read the Jedi well enough to know something was up. Slowly, all in time and seemingly in turn, all eyes turned to Luke. Luke looked at the stranger, still appearing clueless as to what was happening. Luke thought of everything that his sister had been through and everything of all manners of responses flitted about his head. But in the end he simply looked at the man and said, "No, you are not right. You are, in fact, very mistaken." And then he walked away.


	49. Chapter 49

A/N: Thanks to my support crew: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter.

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><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

_The Republic Frigate_, The Eclipse

It was late and Han was finding every excuse not to turn into his over-sized quarters and feign sleep once again. The exhaustion he had felt when sleep first started to elude him had been replaced by a fatigue that seemed to feed upon itself. The more tired he would feel, the more restless energy would thrum through his veins. He exercised, drank black tea and had even stooped to reading Tee-Nineteen's reports to try and fall asleep. None of it worked.

And so he found himself wandering the corridors of his ship. It was still somewhat incredible, the fact that all of this was _his_, under his command. Although he hadn't commanded anything yet, it would be a few days before the first of the StealthX's would take to the stars and begin their missions. But he had drawn up those missions, petitioned for changes and stood up for what he felt was important. He had a voice. He was enjoying himself.

True, it was a different type of enjoyment than that he had found while flying the _Millennium Falcon_ around with Chewbacca. It was pleasure derived from doing a job that needed to be done, that he was capable of doing, and that he was good at-even if he didn't necessarily want to do it. Han had never had any children of his own, but he likened it to parenting. He considered all of his men as he thought he would his own children. In all of them, he had painstakingly taken the time to find and cultivate their potential as best as he could through gentle criticism and heaps of encouragement. It was not always easy and it was not always fun, but it always got done.

Being the parent also meant feeling that separation between adult and child. He was no longer the last one standing during the late night card games; he was no longer invited to card games at all. It had been an eternity, it seemed, since anyone had sat around and had a drink with him. Or since anyone had asked how he was doing, had given him some encouragement. Not that he needed it, not the encouragement anyway. He did miss the camaraderie, though.

It wasn't any secret what some people were saying about him; some of his own men. The rise of one always brought with it the judgment of many. He didn't pay it any mind. He certainly didn't let it affect his work. But he sure could use a friend.

When he walked past the simulation chambers, he noticed that someone was practicing. It was Leia Skywalker. Thoughts went back to what seemed like a lifetime ago, when she had found him practicing late one night back on Coruscant. So much had happened since then. The pleasant memory gave way to a wave of sobering reality. Things were not the same between them. She and her brother both treated Han differently, he could tell. Not like the other men, the ones that doubted his command, but different all the same.

Han had experienced some difficulty processing all that had happened following the events on Byss. He had, for a moment, allowed himself to believe in the notion that Jedi were merely humans able to fail, to bleed and to mourn. Seeing the image of Leia Skywalker crumpled inside of his quarters following her ordeal had been a revelatory event for him. One that still remained fresh inside of his mind. That image, though, was now juxtaposed against the Leia Skywalker that had exited his quarters some time later, and even more so against the Leia Skywalker that had reported to duty under his command.

She had looked determined that day that she had arrived onboard the _Eclipse_. No, determined was not the right word, he decided. Resigned perhaps? Still possibly no, not the right word. Whatever it was, it was not the look of someone who had decided to follow some clear, chosen path, but of someone who had decided to move forward while not entirely certain of where it was they were meant to go. Pressing on for the sake of pressing on, sure of nothing, only perhaps that above all else they must just simply _go_. Regardless, all glimpses of the human beneath the super powers had vanished. If anything, she was less human, focused, resolute and controlled, than ever.

Which was the real reflection? Han wondered. Perhaps, he thought, maybe every Jedi struggled to walk that balancing act between the singularity of their powers and their natural human frailties. Han found those ideas intriguing; they shed new light on his previous _misconceptions_ concerning the Jedi and regardless of the eventual outcome, he was grateful for the insight, especially now that he was commanding an entire team of them.

For all that had happened since back at the Academy, the change in his relationship with the Skywalker twins felt very personal, however, and for both of the siblings, it felt different as well. With Leia, he found a reticence as if she was ashamed in some way. For Luke, it was more of a feeling like he blamed Han for something. Maybe the two had something to do with each other, but Han couldn't figure it out.

He watched Leia on the simulator through the viewing room glass. If anyone was being talked about more on the ship than him, it was Leia. Not only was she seen as unyielding and terse, but many of the crew blamed her for the start of the war. Han knew all of that to be either inaccurate or incorrect. She did not start the war, the war started with her. She was not unyielding and terse, she was all too often just…right. He sat down on one of the conformed couches, propped his foot up on the small table and thought maybe he would tell her that if she ever gave him the chance.

* * *

><p>"General Solo?"<p>

The words sounded thick inside of Han's head. Had he fallen asleep?

"Han?"

He opened his eyes and found Leia Skywalker looking down at him as he slowly put together where he was. "Yeah," he replied groggily, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair.

"Were you waiting for me?"

"Yeah," he replied as he stood. "Well, sort of."

She waited, watching him in that way that she had – cautious – like he was a bomb waiting to explode.

"Nothing really. I just couldn't sleep and then saw you in there…," he explained, trailing off at the end not knowing what else to say.

"Oh," she replied, visibly relaxing but only slightly.

"Look," Han said. "I don't know what's going on. I mean, I can only imagine everything that you went through – are going through. But…" He ended with a shrug, realizing that he had just said absolutely nothing at all. Nevertheless, he watched a storm of emotions glide across Leia's features like clouds marring a clear blue sky. He didn't understand most of what he saw, or why; he couldn't place what might be going on in her head.

After a moment, she simply said, "Thank you, General."

Han sighed, thankful that the moment had passed. "Enough with the general stuff," he said lightly. "You're the only one left on this ship that still insists on calling me that. You and that droid of mine."

"It's important," she said earnestly. "Military ranks and titles are meant to create distances. It's the simplest way to establish a hierarchy. You'd do well to rethink your cavalier attitude towards your earned title."

He didn't miss the word _earned_ in her words and smiled at her for it. "Maybe you're right. I'll work on it."

"Good."

"But you can still call me Han, at least when you're disagreeing with me." He said with a wink.

"It'll be Han, then," she deadpanned.

His reply was a chuckle.

"It's funny that we ended up friends," she said as her face relaxed into a small smile.

It was funny to him that she knew exactly what he was thinking even if he hadn't said it. He looked at her now. She had been a child when he first met her, she was a young girl when he had danced with her at the military ball, and she stood before him now as a fully grown woman. "Yeah, well, I have a habit of picking up friends in the oddest of places," he said.

"I can only imagine."

She was as relaxed as he had seen her in quite some time and all he wanted to do was to hang around and see more of it. He glanced down at his wrist chrono, it was almost dawn. "Wanna grab some breakfast? Looks like we missed sleep."

"Well, at least one of us missed sleep," she replied. "The other was doing a pretty good imitation of it on that couch."

"Nothing gets by you, does it? C'mon," he said with a hitch of his thumb, "I know this great place on the third floor. It'll be my treat."


	50. Chapter 50

A/N: Big thanks to the usual suspects: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter!

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><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space a few weeks later) _

Leia had tried to keep her promise to Luke, to herself and to the galaxy, to stay away from Han Solo. But it seemed fate (and the man himself) had other things in mind. Nothing had happened between them and their time together was nothing more than two outcasts sharing company in the only place they were able to find it. But time together it was. Like now, when she found herself sitting across from him at a table in the _Eclipse's _cafeteria sharing an early breakfast as had become their near daily routine.

She was studying him. His head was down as he reviewed some report or other, his right hand grasping a fork and hovering over his untouched meal as if at any minute he would eat, even though she knew that he would not. He was a perpetual snacker, preferring the habit of sneaking meals into work and working during meals. She had then made it her habit to carry ration bars on her and to act shocked and annoyed when he would snatch one playfully from her hands. It was a strange sensation that she would feel when she would then watch him eat; as a mother might feel at the confirmation that an infant is getting its proper nourishment.

"What?"

She was snapped out of her thoughts by Han's voice. When she refocused her eyes on his face she found him staring at her; a warm blush rose disobediently to her cheeks. "Nothing," she said, looking away. The first of the other Jedi were beginning to file into the cafeteria. She watched them as she knew that Han was now watching her. When she looked back to him, he dropped his gaze back down to his report. It was a familiar dance.

"What has your attention today?" She asked, looking down at the pile of flimsis on the table.

"Ah, these drills," Han growled, pushing the pile away from him and putting his fork down. "I don't know what Madine is thinking. It's as if he completely ignores the stealth technology and just sticks with what he's comfortable with."

Leia stared at him intently, hoping his own words might sink in. "It's human nature," she said. "And it's hard to see it when looking at oneself."

Han rested his forearms on the table, leaning towards her. "Are you trying to say that_ I'm _like Madine?"

"Is that what you heard in my comment?"

"Don't talk in circles." He sat back, resting his body against the chair. "You know I hate that."

She swirled the food around on her plate. She wondered how to tell Han that she did think that he had stopped challenging his squadron just as much as Madine had. "There was a time that you weren't so enamored with the Jedi," she said.

"You think I'm _enamored _with you now?"

She laughed. "No. But I think you've forgotten that the Jedi can be questioned. Present company excepted."

"Questioned?"

"Pushed, challenged, stood up to, whatever words you want to give it."

"Led."

She nodded. "Led."

"I didn't think I wasn't being a fair leader."

"Oh, you're being a fair leader," she said. "But I thought what you wanted to be was a _great _leader. Being fair is part of that, but it's only a part."

He rubbed his hand across his face and looked around the room. He lifted his chin toward the few Jedi at another table. "I never see you with them."

"I'm with them enough," she replied, folding her arms and looking towards them. "We spar every day. You know? When we disappear and do that Jedi stuff."

"Not the same," Han said around a mouthful of food. "That's your team and you should be a part of it."

She didn't respond, just remained staring at the faces.

"They want the same thing that you do," Han said. "That's all you need to remember."

"They treat me differently," she whispered.

"You are different."

She turned to look at him. "I didn't ask to be."

He shrugged. "That's how it works."

"You're different, too, you know?"

"Oh, no, don't go making this about me," he replied as he stood and began to gather his things.

"Running?"

"I've got a meeting," he stated sharply, "And you've got your...Jedi stuff as you put it."

"Uh-huh."

His expression turned stony and he leaned over the table towards her. "You walk around with the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders and wonder why they treat you differently. We've all got a stake in this, they all do and the sooner you accept that the better off we'll all be." When he finished he straightened up and stared down at her.

She kept her eyes straight ahead, looking at nothing. She wondered then on the fairness of it. She, knowing in advance that they belonged together yet fumbling to figure him out. And he, oblivious to any foreknowledge of their relationship yet, seeming to know her so well. "You've said your peace," she stated evenly.

"I have."

"I hope it made you feel better."

"It did," he replied. "I'll see you tomorrow, same time." And with that, he turned and walked away.

She watched him as he left the room. The man was outright dangerous. There was so much more to him than she had already puzzled out over the years that she had spent considering him, more than that he was a good man, a good soldier and unapologetically handsome. He had this innate ability to read her. Always seeming to know exactly what she needed from him, whether it was to be pushed, questioned or coddled. And while she continued to fail miserably at predicting his actions, he seemed perfectly capable of predicting her every move. As he disappeared from her view she shook her head and turned away, pitying her former self that had to discover all of this without so much of a hint of a fair warning.


	51. Chapter 51

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter. :-)

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><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space) _

"No, try it again," Han said, trying unsuccessfully to pump some patience into his tone. He pressed his palms against the console beneath him, hanging his head in frustration. He then turned to look at Lieutenant Tonsk who offered him an encouraging nod, which Han suspected came more out of his sense of duty than the fact that he believed in Han's idea.

Han looked back toward the viewscreen. His entire squad of StealthX fighters were out in deep space running drills and practice scenarios. Earlier, while sketching out the training agenda for the day, Han had come up with an idea for a new maneuver. After completing all the required drills, the team was now trying to put Han's new idea into practice. As smoothly as it all came about inside of his head, the Jedi were struggling to get even the basic mechanics of the move before giving up in frustration.

"Let me know when they're formed up," Han said gruffly as he pushed himself away from the console and turned toward the large table behind him. He looked down at the scribbled drawings that he had sketched out earlier. The small exes and asterisks lifted off of the page and flew across the lines of his drawings in perfect synchronicity. The maneuver was simple (at least to him) and brilliant. It made full use of not only the stealth technology but of the battle meld that the Jedi were able to utilize.

"They're ready for another pass, sir," Tonsk said from behind him.

The animation of his thoughts fell back to their places. He turned back toward the viewport, widened his stance and clasped his hands behind his back. Wordlessly, with a deliberate nod, he gave the order to his lieutenant.

Tonsk leaned forward, pressing the call button that would speak to the entire squad. "On your ready," he said, his voice crisp and clear.

Han watched, as he had watched the exes and asterisks on the table behind him, the blips that were his StealthX fighters mimic the initial movements that would begin the maneuver. The exercise was painfully quiet. In a normal military drill of this kind, call signs and directives would be volleying across the airwaves, but with the Jedi, everything was conveyed through the meld. Han was still not entirely accustomed to that.

One of the blips on the radar screen, Timmons, jerked unsteadily off of his designated path causing one of the asterisks, Leia Skywalker, to weave around him the wrong way.

"No!" Han yelled, as he slammed his hand down on the receiver. "Damnit, Timmons. Hold your pattern!"

Timmons did not respond. A voice did come across the the airwaves to answer him, however. "He's following your scheme!" Leia shouted back. "And if I do the same we'll collide!"

"No," Han spit back. "You know where he is, you know where the tips of your wings are, you're not gonna hit if you follow the pattern!"

Through the Jedi battle meld, the pilots became almost one with their ships. Unlike a normal pilot, or even a great pilot, that would have to compensate for some amount of uncertainty as to exactly where their wingspan would be, the Jedi would know precisely the amount of space they were utilizing with their StealthX's, allowing for tighter maneuvers and more daring flight patterns. Han didn't quite understand how they did it and knew that any other pilot probably wouldn't be able to do it - at least not consistently - but he had written this move with the extraordinary abilities of the Jedi in mind and it frustrated him that they were not able to bring his vision into fruition.

"This is ridiculous!" Leia growled over the comm as the rest of the drill fell apart and the squad began to break up.

Han mashed the button to the reciever down taking all of his anger out on it. "You're right, Skywalker, this is ridiculous. It's ridiculous that I have a squad full of Jedi that can't run any more complicated maneuvers than a freshman class at the Corellian Navy!"

He switched the comm off, cutting off any response that Leia might be spewing into her headset. Spinning around to look down at his drafts again, the exes and asterisks now refused to come to life for him as if they had given up on him as well. Maybe he was wrong, he thought, cringing at this first sign of weakness and defeat. He ran his hand through his hair in silent frustration. "Line 'em up again," he ordered Tonsk through gritted teeth.

"Shadow Strike form up for another run."

He heard Tonsk's voice from behind him speaking very calmly as if the entire previous altercation hadn't happened. Han took a deep breath, keeping his back to the viewport as he regained his composure. When he turned around his eyes began to track the tiny blips that were his squad, almost immediately he could tell that something was wrong. "Who's that?" He asked Tonsk, pointing at a blip that was not getting into formation. "What're they doing?" Before Tonsk could respond, Han pressed the intercom button, "Skywalker, what the hell are you doing? You're going the wrong way!"

No response. The silence was more infuriating than any response she might've had for him and he knew that she knew that. "Skywalker," he said again and again got nothing. He looked down at the bank of readouts before him, easily finding the information that he was looking for. Leia Skywalker was approaching, her blip rapidly closing in on the _Eclipse_. "Godsdamnit," Han cursed. "Have 'em stand down, I'm going to the hangar."

"Yes, sir," Tonsk replied and as Han exited the command center, he heard Tonsk calmly give the order to his squad.

* * *

><p>Leia landed her X-wing in the hangar of the <em>Eclipse<em>, skidding to hault; the screeching of her landing skiffs giving perfect voice to the anger she was feeling. The squad was tired, they had completed an entire complement of drills that morning and now Han was pushing them into trying the impossible. His idea was intriguing and would be awesome if it would work. But it would not and his stubbornness was not allowing him to admit defeat.

She saw him in the distance, walking earnestly toward her from the far side of the hangar. Her hatched popped open and she Force leapt toward him, flipping in mid air and landing just a few feet away. She saw the stony expression on his face wiped clean, knowing that he was momentarily stunned by her display. Suspecting that she could perhaps read his thoughts and understanding what she could do while flying a StealthX was far different than seeing her raw power up close. It was easy for him to forget that she was a Jedi. It was important to her that he did not.

"Is there any reason that you're disobeying a direct order, soldier?" Han asked as he seemed to regain his composure.

She found it amusing that Han liked to remind her that she was a soldier and that he was her commanding officer only went it was convenient for him. "Because your direct order is barve," Leia spat, using the Corellian slang that she had been picking up from him to get her point across.

"Barve?" He replied, clearly losing the struggle to keep hold onto his anger. He took a step towards her. "I'll tell you what's _barve_, Leia. The fact that you and your super human cronies can't extend your powers further than that little box that you've painted yourself into."

She removed her helmet and brushed a few stray hairs away from her face with her gloved hand. "The only box we're painted in is the box of reality, Solo. You dreamt up that move and in your dreams is where it should've stayed."

He hesitated, something about what she said had unnerved him and he spent a moment studying her. "It'll work," he replied. "And I'm gonna prove to you that it'll work if I have to get up there and do it myself."

Before he could react, she shoved her helmet in his gut, eliciting a breathy 'harumph' from him. "Be my guest, hotshot," she spat as she tore the gloves from her hands and threw them on the floor at his feet.

She walked away, heading toward the showers. She didn't look back, not until she heard the sound of her engine humming to life. Spinning around she searched the space where she had left him, finding only her gloves still lying on the tarmac. He was in her X-wing, firing up her repulsors before she had fully comprehended what was going on.

She spun back around and hurried toward the command center.

* * *

><p>Han didn't know how he got himself into these situations. Somehow, before he knew it, he was just there. Like now, flying an X-wing with a squad full of Jedi when he didn't know a Force leap from a high-jump. It was Leia Skywalker that he blamed this time, because there was always someone else to blame. She had goaded him into this situation, she had become very proficient at that over these past few weeks.<p>

"Shadow Strike, this is Shadow Star, form up," he commanded. "And you'll need to use your headsets, you've got a blind pilot here."

Han listened as his squad checked in over the comm. No one questioned him and he although he was not Force sensitive, he could almost feel their trepidation and doubt through their voices on the intercom. He shook it off, but he knew he'd have to get them settled before he would be able to make this work. He looked at the flashing comm button that meant the command center was listening - knew that she would be there by now. "Alright, now that it's just _us boys _out here, maybe we can get this thing done."

His cockpit came to life with answering blips and beeps. There was a silent way to communicate through the X-wing cockpit that even non-Jedi could use. His men were utilizing that method in quick succession, they had obviously enjoyed his dig at Leia. Han breathed a little easier knowing that he had successfully calmed his men down and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he would pay for that comment later when he had to face Leia Skywalker again. One battle at a time, he thought as he flipped his switches to their ready position.

"Alright, then, let's do this thing. Timmons on your go," Han said, wrapping his hand around the joystick of Leia's X-wing. He wondered if she had modified it to accommodate her short legs because even with moving his seat back as far as it would go, he still felt as if his knees were at his ears.

Han watched as Timmons began his designated route. The team was utilizing a fixed point in space as the enemy vessel. Timmons' X-wing would be the first to engage, Han drew back on the joystick, easing his engines to life and racing straight toward Timmons. This was where Timmons and Leia had pulled back. Han's hands were sweating and his heart was pounding in his chest. Unlike the Jedi, he did not have an absolute concrete fix on where his wingspan ended, but he knew his drill and he knew the pattern he was supposed to fly.

Fighting the urge to shut his eyes, he glanced by Timmons and made no contact. He shook his head, _that was too close_. While his logical mind struggled trying to figure out why he wasn't a giant ball of fire, the rest of the squad continued. Luke dipped low underneath the enemy and Arch mirrored his move on top. They had gotten further than the team had ever gotten. Han was banking a hard right when the tip of his wing caught on something and his X-wing spun violently back to the left. Struggling to keep the craft under his control as it fought to go into an uncontrollable spin, Han yelled into his headset, "Abort, abort, all units pull out."

The whir of space outside of his canopy was making him dizzy, but he gradually regained control. "Who'd I clip?" He asked, searching his instruments and ensuring each little blip was accounted for.

"It was me, Shadow Star. I'll send you the bill," Arch said lightly then added, "We almost had it," in a tone that was like a curse.

"It was impressive," Luke said.

"Damage?" Timmons asked.

Han glanced at his readouts. "I think I lost my right wing indicator."

"No big deal, we don't use those anyway," Arch replied. "I don't see anything to get upset about on my end."

Han blew out a breath. The squad was treating the accident lightly, but it could've been a very bad situation. If Han hadn't been able to control his X-wing from going into a spin he could've taken out a few of the StealthX's as they circled him in that tight formation. He shook his head. "Alright boys, I guess it time to head in."

"What? But we were so close!"

It was Luke Skywalker's voice that came over the comm and it had a childlike squeak to its quick delivery that Han was surprised to hear. Not only because Luke was normally overly cautious and seemed to be going out of his way to come off as sagelike and mature, as of late. But the young Jedi had also not seemed the least bit supportive of Han's new role or rank.

Luke's comments were followed by an entire accompaniment of urges to try one more time. Han smiled. Hadn't he likened being a commander to being a parent? It was as if the Junior Smashball team wanted frost cones after a big game. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a voice.

"This is the bridge," came Lieutenant Tonsk over the comm. "The..._acting _Commander on deck, Jedi Skywalker, is giving the order for Shadow Strike team to form up and try again."

Han's smile widened, his hand tightening on the steering yolk. "You heard the lieutenant," he said easily. "Form up."

The squad formed up again, Timmons was given the go. Han eased his joystick through the tight maneuvers, trying his best to not think about how close the other X-wings were. They made it through the entire drill, the enemy combatant caught in the crosshairs of each X-wing when they were done. The howls over the intercom rang against Han's eardrums, it was one the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

Han flew Leia's X-wing back to the _Eclipse_, excitement coursing through his veins. As soon as his cockpit hatch popped open, he stood up in the X-wing's cramped cockpit, stretching his legs as he waited for his egress ladder to get attached. The rest of the squad were landing all around him, the thrill of victory scorched the air. Han took his helmet off and looked around. He saw her immediately; she was standing across the hangar, arms folded across her body, shaking her head in disbelief and admiration. His smile widened.

The pilots gathered around Han's X-wings and traded boasts and congratulations. More than having his maneuver finally work, Han was glad to see the Jedi rise to a challenge. It was a dangerous thing to enter a battle with troops that did not know how to extend themselves and survive it. For as powerful as they were, the Jedi were complacent in Han's opinion. They relied too much on their mystic powers and not enough on good, old quick thinking and street smarts. Nevermind that it had taken a speech from Leia over breakfast one morning to remind him of that.

He left the group of pilots and headed towards the command center, eager to review the reports that he knew Tonsk would have waiting for him. As the crowd of Jedi and mechanics cleared, Han noticed that there was someone standing in his way. He slowed his steps as he approached her. When he reached her he pressed her helmet against her stomach, gently; not in the fashion that she had done to him. She took it from him silently, her only response a warm smile. He placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it knowingly. She turned to look up at him, patted her hand over his and then walked over toward the other Jedi without saying a word.


	52. Chapter 52

A/N: Thanks to my beta readers: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter.

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

_The Republic Frigate, _The Eclipse _(a few days later)_

"I think he thinks I question it just to be difficult. As if I would argue the color of his shirt if the mood struck me," Leia said. They were discussing the strained relationship between her and her brother.

Han looked at her, wondering if she realized that she probably _would_ argue the color of his shirt if the mood struck her. But he stopped himself from saying anything. He liked this fiery side of her, the one that would wind her up so tightly with indignation that she would uncharacteristically reveal parts of herself that she didn't even know she was revealing. He spent hours of their time together, and of his time alone, cataloguing all that he had discovered about her these past few weeks.

He could not pinpoint what he found most intriguing about her. He recalled the dance they had shared back on Coruscant. Back then he had nursed an animal's lust and desire for her. She had been unattainable and as such all the more desirable. She seemed more attainable now but it was not an animal's lust that he felt any longer; although it was still a strange sort of desire that held him expertly captive. It was a desire to understand her when she didn't even seem to understand herself.

"What were you fighting about this time?" Han asked holding his arm out for her to go ahead of him. They were walking along the corridors of the ship, it was late and Han was making his rounds. She sometimes accompanied him. He always tried to look as if he hadn't been waiting for her.

"Oh, who knows?" She said, aggravation creeping into her tone. "Who cares? All I know is, I'm not going to apologize for having my own mind."

He chuckled. "I think everyone on my squad has a mind of their own, including your brother."

"Having a mind and using it are two different things. Just like having the Force is a choice, a responsibility we all have."

"Is it a choice?" Han asked, genuinely curious. He had often felt that he would not like to have been born with something that brought with it so much built-in expectation and liability. The Force, to him anyway, seemed more like a burden than a gift.

"It can be," she said slowly as if he had introduced a new thought to her, something she had never considered before.

This was another thing that seemed implausible to him about her, how she could fight and question so much of the Jedi doctrine yet she had never given thought to the fact that all of that history and accountability had been born into her - almost unjustly, in his opinion. "Could you choose _not_ to train, not to _be _a Jedi?" He asked.

"Sure. It happens all the time, probably more than we know. Children are brought to the Academy that show signs of Force sensitivity. We don't go out and round them up unbidden."

Han shrugged. "But they're _children_. And you? Was _not_ being a Jedi ever a choice for you?"

"I can't imagine growing up with this power and not being given the training to command it."

"That wasn't my question."

They stopped in front of a large viewport overlooking the hangar bay; it was riddled with idle X-wings and Han watched as the occasional diagnostic droid hovered around the ships' wings and nose tips. Leia looked down at the floor below, her hands wrapping around the cylindrical handrail. "No, I guess it wasn't a choice for me," she said slowly, her voice low. She seemed deep in thought and Han worried for a moment that he had said the wrong thing, pressed the wrong issue. Then she turned to him. "But something tells me that I wouldn't want it any other way," she said. "I think we're all born with…with certain abilities that we – if we value a purposeful life – have a responsibility to develop and utilize to their fullest potential. It's no different being born a Force user as it is being born a great leader."

"That's not true," he said pushing away from the viewport and resuming his slow paced walk. She followed him, not arguing. She always tried to make everything about him, he thought, always tried at some point to turn his gentle probing into her psyche back into himself. But she was wrong here, had always been. He had not been born with any innate ability that could be visibly measured by others. He just did what he had to do. There was nothing special about that.

"Why is it that you expect me to be so forthcoming yet you always clam right up?" She goaded him yet when he opened his mouth to answer her, she cut him off, saying, "Why is it that you can recognize Force sensitivity - something that you don't even have a particular propensity toward - as an inherent ability that one might be _saddled with_ from birth, yet you refuse to recognize that there might be all kinds of inherent abilities that sentient beings are forced to…_reconcile_ within themselves regardless of their own proclivities?"

Han stopped walking and turned to look at her. She mirrored his movements and stood before him, her chin lifted so that she could look him directly in the eyes. "You know what I've figured out about you?" He asked and then watched as a faint hint of alarm brushed across her features. It was not a surprise to him; she was as guarded as he was in some ways. But he did wonder what she might think that he figured out, knowing that it was most probably not what he was about to proclaim.

"What's that, General Solo?" She said, her tone slyly covering her momentary lapse.

"That whenever you get all speech-y and word-y, it usually means you're full of shavit."

She stood there for a moment just looking at him as her brain seemed to process his words. Then, after that brief, stoic silence – she burst out laughing.

He smiled, couldn't stop the upward curve that claimed his mouth and lips even if he had wanted to. He might not ever understand just what drew him to her in particularly, but what he did know – without a doubt – was that he loved to make her laugh and that he was about the only one on the ship and perhaps the known universe that knew how to, without fail. "You see, Jedi Skywalker," he said, waggling his finger at her as his smile widened further still. "The truth can set you free."

He thought he noticed a hint of something cross her features yet again but he could not place it. Then she shook her head as if dismissing it and she continued to chuckle lightly as they both turned and resumed walking.


	53. Chapter 53

A/N: Thanks for my beta readers: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter.

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><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

_The control room of the Republic Frigate, _The Eclipse _(~ 1 month later)_

"General Solo, the first of the reports are coming in. I thought you'd like to know."

Han was standing behind his chief navigational officer, his hands clasped behind his back. It had been a little over six weeks since he had sent the Jedi StealthX's out on their first missions. The majority of them had been sent to perform various feint attacks on key Imperial systems that would coincide with other military actions going on within the Republic. The ruse was meant to confuse and intimidate the enemy, exercising maximum firepower with minimum resources and hopefully distracting them enough so that the real mission and its operatives would go unnoticed.

The real mission had been left in the hands of three Jedi: to find the Empire's rumored hidden super weapon. Two Jedi, utilizing the battle meld, would spy on all known Imperial shipyards on record while, if at all possible, employing maximum damage and evading detection and capture. The lone, odd Jedi was to work alone, flying pure stealth reconnaissance on the Outer Rim, dropping in on a planet's atmosphere and surveying it for Imperial activity. This Jedi was not to engage in any combat unless somehow detected or provoked.

Chewbacca, along with a Republic fighter pilot named Jett, was with the _Millennium Falcon_ flying in support. The _Falcon_ mostly lurked about in deep space at predetermined coordinates and served as an assembly point providing maintenance, supplies, and medical services; acting as an overall home base for the team. All updates and reports would come via the _Falcon's_ encrypted messaging system and would be few and far between as per the mission's design.

"Thank you, Tonsk," Han replied. "I'll review those reports on my bridge display."

Reports at this point could be expected, if not a little early, from the decoy operatives, the ones performing strafe runs for the Republic. But for a brief moment Han wondered if his other teams had perhaps caught a lucky break. Having so many lives in his hands had him feeling uneasy. On Corellia he had been a trainer and on Coruscant as well. These were the first men that he would possibly be sending to their deaths. Well, all men and one woman. Was it purely coincidence that the one woman was the one he was most worried about?

He arrived at the small private cubicle on the bridge and began to scan through the reports. It was all good news and all from the decoy units. There was nothing from Leia or the shipyard crew. Han placed his hands on the console and leaned his weight forward, studying the readout until the letters jumbled together in a blur.

At the onset, the outlier, Outer Rim mission had seemed the safest of all and Han had held no reservations in approving it. However, as soon as the Jedi Leia Skywalker volunteered and was sanctioned on the mission, all manner of possibilities had flooded into his head. The Outer Rim was unchartered, and undisturbed by most, for a reason. She could encounter a plethora of resistance and trouble of unknown kinds and would be the least likely to be able to call for help should such an event occur. But of all of these doubts, every fear and worry, none were anything new. There was not one thought, one risk or possibility that hadn't already been assessed, discussed and prepared for or accepted.

There had been no sound reason that he could argue for her not to go. And so he hadn't. And now when he worried, he told himself that he would be concerned in the same way for any of his men. Only, Han was never really good at lying to himself and his own words just did not ring true.

"I've taken the liberty to draft your orders for refueling and redeployment of these crews. They are awaiting your review and signature," Lieutenant Tonsk spoke from a short distance away.

Han straightened up, refocusing his thoughts toward his Lieutenant. Over the last couple of months the young man had proven invaluable to Han, especially regarding all of the pesky military protocols and procedures he was now expected to follow. Tonsk had also demonstrated a shrewd head for numbers and strategizing and Han often found himself bouncing ideas off of the young officer, especially in times such as these when he found himself alone at the bridge of his vessel surrounded by nothing but a support crew.

Han took the datapad from the Lieutenant and studied its contents. The decoy crew's maneuvers were made to coincide with the Republic military's offensive so these orders were already reviewed and sanctioned by Crix Madine and the Jedi Master overseer, Master Tiin. Han was thankful that, so far, he had been left alone to command his ship. He had his own ideas on how best to fight this war and when the time came for him to perhaps bend the rules a bit, it would be a whole lot easier to do that without having one of those men or their subordinates stationed on his vessel and questioning his every move. With that in mind, he signed off on the awaiting orders as was expected of him.

Now all he had left to do was to wait.


	54. Chapter 54

A/N: Thanks to Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter.

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(a few weeks later)_

Han Solo knew that he was asleep in that nebulous way that one floats on the edge of reality while reasoning is slowly returning and the rational mind is allowed for a few brief moments to manipulate the irrational world of one's dreams. He was holding onto a woman; she was dwarfed within his embrace. He held her as one would a lover and his subconscious mind felt his body reacting from the phantom warmth of her unreal presence.

The being in his dream that was supposed to be him then kissed the woman on top of her head. It was a fatherly gesture, tender and protective. It was so unlike him, so unlike anything he had ever done or had the urge to do, that it underscored the unreality of what was happening yet brought with it a curiosity that had his mind struggling to hold onto the vision to see where it would take him next. A distant rattling made the couple in the dream jerk away from each other. Slowly, with great effort in the lethargic movement of his dream state, Han looked down at the woman still settled in his protective embrace. It was Leia Skywalker.

He jolted awake. It was not the first time the female Jedi had entered his subconcious mind, but similiar to the woman herself, she was mercurial and elusive even in his dreams. At times she was tender and vulnerable as she was in this one, in others she was passionate and brash. The only thing that remained the same was that it was always her.

It took him a few moments to recover his bearings. The rattling of his dreams was, in fact, an alarm. The bridge was trying to raise him. Brushing the disturbing thoughts of his dream aside, he hit the call button near the head of his bed.

"Solo," he spoke into the speaker.

"General Solo, we have received a priority signal from the _Millennium Falcon_. I'm afraid it requires your immediate attention."

It was Tonsk, his lieutenant. "What's the sitrep, Lieutenant?" Han replied as he rolled out of bed and began to hastily dress.

"The _Falcon,_ and two of our StealthX's that were docked for refueling, were ambushed where they sat in deep space."

"Fierfek," Han cursed under his breath. "Is it pirates, a chance assault? Or Imperials? What're we dealing with, Tonsk?"

Fully dressed, Han switched to his headset and headed for the bridge while Tonsk briefed him on everything that he knew. By the looks of it, it was a chance attack. Some mercenaries or privateers just happened upon the _Falcon_ and decided to waylay the lone ship. From the nature of their attack, they were not aware of the presence of the StealthX's as they sat at a safe distance camouflaged by the dark blanket of space. The _Falcon _took the fight as far away from the StealthX's as possible, the two Jedi onboard manning the turret guns and Chewbacca and Jett maneuvering as best as they could against the assault. But the small ship was grossly outnumbered and the pirates had trapped them inside an interdiction field that prevented them from jumping to hyperspace.

"Even if they could, we can't abandon those StealthX's," Han was saying as he entered the bridge, switching off his headset and speaking to Tonsk directly. "They may only be acting like they don't know that they're there. We can't let those things out of our sight."

"Sir, the _Millennium Falcon_ cannot hold on much longer under such an assault."

"She'll hold together," Han muttered under his breath as he joined the lieutenant in studying the star charts on the display board. "They're not that far from us."

"True enough," Tonsk replied. "However, with the interdiction field and this ship's sublight capabilities, we would be days out of offering any assistance."

"_The Eclipse_, yes," Han replied, punching a few codes on the display board. "She's a fast as a bantha leaving a watering hole when she's flying on her sublights."

"The few fighter ships we have," Lietenant Tonsk began as he watched the screen that Han was reading, "are numbered only fewer by the men we have assigned to us that are able to fly them."

"How many did Chewie say he had taken out before you lost contact?" Han asked absently.

"Estimates at half a dozen during his last transmission."

"A coupla fighters would be enough to either blow 'em off the map or run 'em outta that sector," Han replied, looking at the Lieutenant.

Lieutenant Tonsk read Han's look - read it perfectly clear, if Han was any judge. But like any good soldier, he remained silent waiting for Han to give it voice.

"I've reviewed your records, Lieutenant. You're plenty qualified to pilot one of those fighters."

"Indeed, sir, I am. But I fear I'm the only one left onboard with that distinction."

"Not the only one," Han replied and then turned to the console and pushed in a few buttons. "This is General Solo to the flight hangar. Ready two fighters, fully loaded and prepared for takeoff within one hour."

"Sir!" Lieutenant Tonsk exclaimed. It was the first time Han had ever witnessed the man showing any hint of emotion. "Do you think it such a wise decision to leave the _Eclipse _without its Commanding Officer or his second?"

"I don't _think_, Lieutenat, I act," Han replied. He was already heading toward the exit when he called over his shoulder, "I leave the thinking for you button mashers later." Then, as if in afterthought, he twisted around as his eyes searched over the remaining crew left on the command deck. "Baringer," he said, to an earnest-looking young officer at the navigational console, "You have the bridge. Notify Sanamon that he's your second."

"Yes, sir," Baringer replied.

* * *

><p>They had joined the <em>Millennium Falcon<em> in the fight - Lieutenant Tonsk and Han - unable to speak to the occupants of the stock light freighter due to some communications malfunction that they had been aware of going in. Han wasn't sure if additional pirates had arrived in the time it had taken him and Tonsk to join them, or if Chewbacca's Wookiee math skills had come into play, but they found themselves still sorely outnumbered, even with the reinforcements that had tripled their strength. But the fight was spectacular and Han couldn't remember the last time he had had so much fun.

For all of his military protocol and tense posture, Lieutenant Tonsk was proving himself as a damn worthy pilot. Above all else, Han could attribute a great many qualities to someone who knew how to fly a ship and fly it well. The pirates had been properly ignoring the two small fighters that were he and Tonsk, treating them as one would a flitnat circling around its head. Their real goal, the prize, was the freighter and the _Falcon_ was taking the brunt of the salvos from the attack.

"We've gotta draw their fire away," Han said to Tonsk over their radio frequency.

"They're not taking the bait," Tonsk replied tightly as Han watched him unleash a flurry of laser bolts on one of the larger ships.

"I wish Chewie would just run. Why doesn't he just leave us?"

"Not in a Wookiee's nature to leave a comrade behind, sir," Tonsk replied.

Han knew it. Something about the fact that Tonsk knew it made him smile. "Yeah, I know-"

Han's words were cutoff when one of the enemy's smaller ships exploded seemingly out of its own volition.

"Was that you?" Han asked, at the same time another fighter blossomed into bits.

"What in the blazes?" Tonsk replied.

Han's eyes ran across the landscape of the dark space in front of them. Phantom salvos were pouring into the enemy at a fantastic rate. "It's one of ours," Han whispered. He dared not name the StealthX over the open comm.

"I think you're right," Tonsk replied slowly.

"We're dead in the water here," Han stated. "We can't fire, we can't fly, because we can't see him, whoever he is. We might end up hitting ourselves if we stay engaged."

"He seems not to need our help, General," Tonsk stated with a heavy dose of awe in his words.

"No, he doesn't," Han agreed. It was the first time he was able to witness their invisible destructive ability firsthand in real combat. It was an impressive sight. "Who was due back?" Han asked.

"No one, sir."

"Well, who the hell is it?"

"I think we're about to find out."

There were three limping ships remaining in the pirate's fleet. All were taking an approach vector toward hyperspace, pushing their sublight engines as if they were being chased by a ghost. From where Han sat, it looked as if they were. Whoever was flying the StealthX was letting them go. Han thought that if the pilot had been anyone but a Jedi, the pirates might not've been so lucky.

When the last of the ships winked out of existence, the crackle of an incoming transmission broke the silence in Han's cockpit.

"Stormy Sky hailing the _Millennium Falcon_, come in, _Falcon_."

The call sign was one Han knew well; it was the first one he looked for on every incoming report. The voice on the intercom was female; the unknown hero was Leia Skywalker. Han let a quick moment of relief and admiration pass over him but then his mind moved quickly into analyzing the facts. There was only one reason that she would be returning early. Either she had been discovered or she had made a discovery.

"This is Shadow Star to Stormy Sky," Han said into his intercom, utilizing his call name as well. "The _Falcon's_ communications are down, rendezvous at the freighter, let them know to prepare for two additional tethers and we'll be right behind you."

"Affirmative, sir. I'll see you onboard."

There was no hesitation to her response, no tremor behind her voice, yet he felt as if her news was not something he wanted to hear. "Form up behind me, Lieutenant," Han said to Tonsk as he started his slow approach toward the Falcon. "I'll be docking first behind Stormy Sky."

"Understood, sir. Right behind you."

"And Tonsk?"

"Yes, sir."

"That was some fine bit of flying out there."

"Thank you, sir. From you, I understand that to be the highest of compliments."

"It is, Tonsk," he replied absently, straining to see the invisible X-wing that was surely approaching the _Falcon_ ahead of him. "It is."


	55. Chapter 55

A/N: Great many thanks to my trio of helpers: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter.

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space - One Day Later) _

Han Solo walked brusquely down the corridors of his ship, _The Eclipse_. Leia Skywalker had returned with reports of a gigantic space station, completed and fully functional by the looks of it, orbiting around some unmapped planet in the Outer Rim. The Republic Military was reeling from the news, switching so abruptly from an all-out offensive to a conservative defensive that Han's head was spinning from all of the reports and incoming orders. His entire squadron had been called to return and the _Eclipse's _hangar was slowing becoming wingtip to wingtip full of StealthX fighters.

Tee-One-Nine, who had managed to escape Han's ongoing urge to disassemble him, had actually been an enormous help in sorting through the shifting initiatives. Han had not slept since learning the news, pouring over what little data Leia was able to gather regarding the space station's design and capabilities. He regarded the Republic's abrupt change of strategy as a huge mistake, metaphorically tipping their hand so to speak. In his humble opinion, the military should have gone on with business as usual, until they could've performed more reconnaissance on this new threat. But he had only been awarded a General's rank, not Chief of State and he could only respond to the situation that was given him.

And respond he would.

In the middle of the previous night, while pouring over each succeeding order to stand down, Han had finally had enough. He viewed the statistics on the readiness of his men and in a move that came straight from his gut; he pulled two of them and ordered them to ready themselves for a reconnaissance mission. He was sending them back to where Leia had spotted the super weapon.

Tonsk had calmly warned Han about the repercussions of disobeying a direct order, while at the same time helping Han design the mission and draw up the assignments. They were the best equipped to get in there quickly, gather more data and return unnoticed by the enemy. If the Empire got spooked by the Republic's hasty retreat and moved the super weapon, they may never get this chance again. It was the right thing to do.

It was now early morning and his two pilots would be leaving soon. Han was heading to the hangar to see them off. He was dressed casually, having not slept at all the previous evening. He intended – after seeing the mission off - to return to his quarters and rest. As he neared the hangar doors, he saw someone approaching. Whoever it was there was a determined stride to their brisk gait. It was like seeing a reflection of his own hurried form approaching him. As he walked on, he recognized Leia.

"General Solo," she greeted him curtly.

"Jedi Skywalker," he returned.

"I understand there is a mission to return to the space station."

He glanced around the hallway, but it was early and they were alone. "That's classified information, but yeah, that's right."

"May I ask why I was not a party to that decision? More specifically why I'm not flying on that mission having been the one to discover the super weapon in the first place?"

Her cheeks were flushed with the heat of anger and indignation and it was hard for Han to concentrate on anything but how the exasperation seemed to transform her. This was the flawed human behind the perfect powers. "That's also classified," he said. "But I can assure you that I have my reasons."

She hesitated, appeared to be studying him. He braced himself. Against what? He couldn't name it. "Permission to speak freely, General Solo," she finally said.

"Granted," he replied.

"I'm a pilot. I'm one of your men just like any of the others. I'm not to be coddled. I'm not your pet."

Her frankness did not surprise him, but it did however, amuse him greatly. Whatever she had read into him, whatever her super mind powers had decrypted regarding his motives, they were just close enough to the truth for him to appreciate them. "I don't think you're my pet," he corrected her. "I made my decision on facts, abilities, nothing more. I won't apologize for them."

"Facts? What facts? Abilities? Show me another pilot's record that is a match to mine. You know full well I'm the best person for this job. I found it, for goddess' sake!"

Her rising voice had him glancing down the corridor once again. All amusement gone, he took her by the arm and pulled her into an empty conference room. "Where's your astromech droid, soldier?" He asked, his voice stiff and military.

She drew her head back as if she had been slapped.

"And your X-wing? Is it ready to fly?"

"I..." She stopped.

"No, I'll answer for you, it's not. Your astromech is in pieces over in maintenance and your X-wing currently has three techs on it. You're _grounded_, soldier. We don't switch our pilots from their designated mechs or their ships unless we damn well have to. _That's _why you aren't flying this mission." He folded his arms and straightened his posture. "Unless you have some other piece of information that would be worth the risk of breaking that protocol."

She stood there for a moment staring at him incredulously. He could see her anger and indignation dissipating into something else entirely. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?" She finally asked.

It was his turn to hesitate. He wasn't sure what he should say. He wasn't sure how much she could know, just by...being _her_. He wasn't sure how much he wanted her to know. The only thing he was sure of was that it was probably an act of futility to try and hide it. "If your X-wing had been ready, if your droid hadn't been fried in that shootout, then yes, you'd be the one to go. You'd be the right man for the job and I would've sent you because it is the right thing to do. But I'm not gonna lie and say that I'm not happy that it wasn't," he said without apology.

"And why is that? Is it because I'm a woman?" She asked, once again incredulous.

He smiled, finding it funny that that was the only reaction his words had on her. "It's because you're my friend," he replied simply.

"I see," she whispered, almost solemnly. Her gaze had dropped to the floor and she seemed to be in deep thought.

"Look, I know you Jedi are always talking about not forming attachments, but...," he stopped, not knowing exactly what it was he was trying to convey. "You can't expect sentient beings not to _feel_. That's one of your Jedi credos that I find most delusional. It's like asking someone not to breathe. Eventually they'll either gasp for air...or die."

She looked back up at him; the look on her face was one he would not soon forget. "My father stands on similar beliefs," she replied. "He argued much the same when fighting for the rights of Jedi to marry and for younglings to know their parents."

"And what do you think?"

"I believe, as with anything, that it depends on the person. Just as a blaster in the hands of a brute is not the same weapon as one in the hands of a law-abiding citizen. There will always be examples of Jedi who form attachments to their detriment. I believe," she said slowly. "That the benefits outweigh the risks and that somewhere there is a middle ground between complete intolerance and blind acceptance."

"You know, you could still make an excellent politician." He stated, meaning it as the highest of compliments to her.

Her shoulders straightened. "I still hope that I will be able to pursue that dream someday."

"The sooner this war is over, the sooner you'll be free to do that."

"Exactly."

"So, why don't we go see Arch and Timmons off?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, but then hesitated as if debating something in her mind.

Then - and it happened so quickly that Han had a hard time processing it - she kissed him. It was chaste and innocent, merely the swift pressure of her mouth on his lips as one might give a long-missed friend or a parent. He could only imagine what his expression was when she drew back, lowering herself from on the tips of her toes to look at him expectantly.

But he did not respond - didn't know how to respond because he did not understand what had just happened. Was she toying with him? Was it merely an innocent display of their friendship that he was reading too much into? Regardless, all manner of the trouble he could get into by fraternizing with a subordinate came rushing into his mind like one of Tonsk's reports. He may not be a Jedi but he was a general. The thoughts of her, the wayward dreams, the haunting desire, none of it had seemed real, possible, dangerous, until that small gesture. That kiss. And now that it had happened, he knew more certainly than ever that it could never happen again.

He watched the color rise to her cheeks; not the color of anger and indignation that she had worn earlier but of another emotion he didn't want to bother naming. "We should go," she said. She seemed surprised by his reaction as if she had performed some test and he had not responded to it in the manner which she had expected.

"You understand that you are a soldier in the Republic and I am your Commanding officer," he said calmly. "This cannot happen. Nothing can come of this."

"I understand," she replied.

His words from earlier came back to him, because she had agreed as one might agree with someone that tells them that they no longer have to breathe. Acquiescing only to keep the conversation flowing, all the while knowing that what they had just agreed to was nothing more than an impossibility, a phantom truth, a lie that would merely expose itself over time.

He said nothing, only held his hand out in a gesture for her to lead and he would follow. She turned and left the room and he kited behind her obediently, letting a safe distance engulf the area in between them. Yet, no matter how far ahead he let her get, no matter how much distance he put between her ahead of him and the memory of that kiss behind him, he could still feel the tingle of her touch against his lips.


	56. Chapter 56

A/N: Many, many, many thanks and props go to Zyra, Lady Peter and Solo Smirk for their continued patience and input into this story. :-)

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space – A Few Days Later) _

Leia walked around the periphery of her ship one more time. She knew that within the large hangar bay where she stood there was a hustle and bustle of activity all around her, but she could only see, hear and feel her ship. The mechanic that had been assigned to work on her StealthX had long since abandoned the exercise of trying to work with her. Every so often when she would allow herself to absorb those things happening around her she could see him, working on an adjoining X-wing and eyeing her derisively. She paid him no mind.

She had always found working with machines to be pleasantly rewarding. It was not something that her mother discouraged as much as she patiently and thoughtfully tolerated. Her father, on the other hand, enjoyed it immensely. 'You're never more beautiful than when you are in your element' he would say while dragging his grease-smudged thumb down her nose. She missed him dearly, the memory momentarily derailing the thoughts of her X-wing's transverse thruster alignment.

She felt a presence take note of her and then begin to approach. It was a warm, familiar presence that she delighted in turning around to greet.

"Hi, Chewie," she said to the approaching Wookiee. The gentle giant was a welcomed fixture in the _Eclipse's_ hangar, loved by all of her crew.

Chewie warfled a greeting and then pointed animatedly at her ship.

"No," she replied. "Just contemplating this final few degrees on the transverse thrusters. I just can't seem to get them aligned."

The Wookiee barked at her teasingly.

"No, I didn't think I could _force_ them into place," she replied. "_However_…," she added, placing her finger on her chin and tapping as she smiled up at the furry beast.

Chewbacca grunted and walked towards the X-wing, peering into the exposed innards of the complex ship. The Jedi StealthXs were dramatically different looking than their standard X-wing counterparts, painted a matte black and speckled with a galaxy of star systems. The painted stars sometimes appeared three-dimensional if stared at long enough, the tiny dots bursting forth into one's vision causing one to blink them back onto the ship's finish as they adjusted their eyes to reality. They always looked awkward when grounded and subjected to the harsh light of a hangar bay, like a wild animal that had been captured and taken out of its natural habitat. They only truly belonged in the skies.

A series of questioning hoots and howls brought Leia out of her thoughts. "_What?_" she asked incredulously as she stomped forward to stand next to Chewbacca wrestling to see what he was pointing at. "Well, no I didn't pull those out and recalibrate them," she answered him when she finally saw what he was talking about. "How would that help?"

Chewbacca answered her, pointing and barking as he lectured her as if she was a small child.

Her jaw dropped open at one of his sarcastic comments. Chewie was not exactly polished or subtle. "Don't you tell me about reverse engineering," she scolded. "I've seen the way you and Solo have that bucket of bolts wired together and the only thing _reverse_ about it is that it's totally backwards."

"Come again?"

She twisted her body around at the sound of his voice, so wrapped up in Chewie's conversation that she hadn't even sensed him coming. But there he was, Han Solo. She hadn't seen him since her impromptu kiss. "You heard me," she said defiantly. She was not sure which man she would be meeting here, the general or the friend.

Chewbacca repeated his theory to Han while Leia folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes. She couldn't tell if, when the Wookiee finished speaking, Han believed him or her or neither. He scratched his head and then made a face while he said, "Where's your mechanic?"

His question brought forth a grunt of indignation from the Wookiee as he hooted and raised his long, hairy arms up above his head. Leia, in sheer reaction to the humor that had crossed Han's features, began to argue her point and feign offense with his comment. It was Han's turn to cross his arms as he smirked and seemingly enjoyed the fruits of his labor. This was what attracted her most about him, his propensity toward enjoyment of the simplest things.

Growing up amongst the Jedi doctrine of self-control and self-denial had made her particularly aware of the pleasure of happiness. There was something inherently wrong, in her opinion, with a way of living that ignored life itself. How could the happiness of mankind be the Jedi's goal when at the same time it was their lowest temptation? She craved the simple satisfaction and gratification of humor, friendship and joy. Han shared her craving, this she was sure of. When she was with him, even when they were serious, even when they were angering each other or discussing the fate of the galaxy, he always maintained a levity that she cherished. _Don't take it all too seriously or it'll take it all away from you_.

"That's enough," Han finally shouted over the din of Leia and Chewie's performance. "You," he said, pointing at Chewie. "Get up there and zero out those thrusters." "And you," he added, turning to look at Leia. "Get out of the way."

"Get out of the way?" She asked, her mouth widening in disbelief at the same time she felt herself obediently complying with a small step backwards.

He didn't answer her as he rolled up his sleeves and buried his hands inside the innards of her ship. The blatant sensuality that his movements unfurled inside of her was getting harder and harder to control. She felt as if she already had a claim to him, she realized. As if it were only _she_ that had to accept the idea that they belonged together and that he had no choice or say so in the matter whatsoever. That was why his response to her kiss had been so unexpected, so wounding. She had never entertained the thought that he would deny her once she reached her decision. Compounding the situation was the fact that his casual rejection only left her wanting him all the more!

Sparks flew up out of the spot where Chewie sat perched atop her X-wing, the Wookiee flailing his arms about and cursing at Han in response.

"I know, I know," Han muttered under his breath as he seemed to move his fingers on to the next wire or connection within her ship. He looked up at the Wookiee. "Try again."

Chewbacca seemed to read the expression behind Han's request and bent down obediently and did as he was told without much comment.

Leia raised herself up on her toes straining to see what it was that Han was doing with the pieces and parts of her ship. "Oh, no," Han teased her while he shouldered his way closer to the ship, blocking any chance she had at a view. "This is going to be a surprise and you can thank me later."

Leia smiled demurely. It was not in anything he said but she felt that his words were in some way a bridge between where they had left each other last and where they might end up sometime in the future. No, he was not thinking of marriage and relationships like the future she always thought of when considering him, but the future of their friendship and the ease that they used to enjoy with one another. It was not here between them as they stood these few feet away; she knew they could both feel the awkwardness now built up between them. But in his tone he seemed to promise or to convey a wish that he might want to try and find their way back there someday. For now, she thought, that would have to be enough.

The X-wing's innards made a curious zing sound and Leia looked up towards Chewbacca. He was still and seemed to be gazing intently at whatever his big paws were currently manipulating. He gave a few curious hoots to which Han answered him cautiously. Then, relaxing his posture he pulled his paws up and out of the X-wing and chortled proudly.

"That's impossible!" Leia exclaimed, although she knew that it was true.

"Take a look for yourself," Han said, stepping away from the access panel.

Leia peered into the opening, quickly finding the gauges and readouts that she was looking for. She had been struggling all morning to realign this particular instrument. Somehow, someway, the irreverent duo had done what she had all but claimed to be impossible. She relaxed back on the heels of her feet. "We'll see what she does at full tilt," she replied, knowing that the empty challenge was futile.

"Oh, I think she'll do just fine," Han replied with a wink that made her insides flutter in response.

Chewbacca grumbled a few opinions of his own while he climbed down off of the X-wing and then waved his goodbyes to the two humans.

"Thank you, Chewie," Leia called, her mouth spread out in a wide smile. She watched the Wookiee lumber away as she felt Han studying her face. For a reason she could not discern, she wanted to delay making eye contact with him. When she finally turned to face him she found him staring at her intently, patiently. She lifted her chin but said nothing.

His eyes were fixed on hers yet his vision seemed to be taking in the whole of her. She felt the pressure of something he might want to say, but then he just smiled down at her and said, "Go wash up. You look a mess."

Nothing about his words, his manner or his expression should've led her to believe that he was flirting with her, but she blushed inwardly when he said them just the same. It was something that she couldn't quite put her finger on but she felt sure that it was not because he did not find her attractive - as she stood there now in her coveralls and grease-smudged skin - that he wanted her to freshen up. But something else entirely. His harsh rejection of her read differently in the light of this playful interaction. Nothing had been lost, merely a strike and a parry had been exchanged between them. She smiled and nodded her head at him in acquiescence while the only word that was rattling around in her mind as she turned and headed out the hangar was: _soon_.


	57. Chapter 57

_It is Your Destiny…_

The Pride of Tarlandia _(Deep Space - One Day Later) _

"They are changing strategy. Something has happened," Grand Admiral Thrawn said with perfect certainty.

"They're regrouping, nothing more. These close attacks have been draining. Even the Republic has limited resources," Tarkin replied, staring at the same battle readouts as his Chiss counterpart but seeing something entirely different.

"No," Thrawn responded succinctly. "The game has changed. Something has placed them on the defensive."

"The Death Star?"

"I wouldn't contribute it to my few agents. They must've found your plaything."

"But how? It's sitting out on the edge of nowhere. I think you're being paranoid. Perhaps all of your time amongst the Sith has you chasing ghosts."

"The Sith and their sorcery do not affect me, Grand Moff," Thrawn replied coolly. "I only react to the facts."

Tarkin stared down at the digital readouts once again, his eyebrows furrowing. "The phantom strikes have indeed suspended."

"The cloaking technology they've been waving under our noses? Yes, that was the first thing I noticed them withdraw."

"We must discover how they are using it," Tarkin said sharply. "This is the kind of thing that could bite us in the end."

"Leave the sorcery and trickery to me, Tarkin," Thrawn replied. "You run off and move your toy to some other impossible-to-find system until you are ready to have your fun with it."

Tarkin sat back in his chair, gnawing on his thumbnail absently. "How goes your search for the touted Chosen One?" He asked. It had been only recently, through one of Thrawn's minions, that they had discovered that the Knight that Palpatine was wooing for his apprentice was considered the "Chosen One" by the Jedi Order.

"All of the Hands I currently have in play are either searching for him directly or gathering information that may help draw him out," Thrawn replied cautiously.

"Perhaps it's time I utilized my new toy to help your efforts along?" Tarkin suggested.

"I'm listening."

"Anakin Skywalker has a wife and children."

"Yes."

"The children are nowhere to be found as of late, but the wife," Tarkin said as he leaned over the star map. "The wife sits alone on her homeworld."

"You mean to attack Naboo? It's in the Core Worlds. How do you plan on getting that lumbering bantha all the way into the Core Worlds without stirring up the entire Republic fleet?"

"I don't," Tarkin replied evenly. "Let them send their fleet, it'll be all the better spectacle when I make my final move."

Thrawn raised an eyebrow at his unlikely ally. "You have me intrigued."

"Prepared to be impressed," Tarkin replied smoothly as he came to his feet and began to review his plan.

* * *

><p><em>Somewhere on the Outer Rim…<em>

Anakin Skywalker closed his eyes. He was sitting in a field of long, willowy grass that swayed to the beat of silent music. His legs were folded in front of him, his hands resting on his knees, palms up with his thumbs each pressed lightly against his middle fingers.

A sharp voice came from behind him. "_Focus_."

Anakin drew in a deep breath and then released it. "Yes, Master."

"Your eyelids are transparent. You can see through them. Your body is superfluous. Your mind does not need it!"

"My body is superfluous," Anakin repeated slowly.

"This world, the galaxy, it is no limit! Only the edges of your mind constrain you!"

Anakin sank deeper into a trancelike state; the words of his Master pushing him further down into his subconscious realm as if shoving him under dark, murky water. His body felt heavy around him, smothering him. He reached for the surface, fighting to get free, to break the tether that held him.

"Look out. See yourself on the edge of this meadow," the sharp voice echoed in stereo as if he were standing all around Anakin, dozens of voices surrounding him all sounding the same.

Anakin twisted free from the burden of his own body, shrugging it off like a lead cape. He opened his eyes and drew in another breath, the sudden weightlessness releasing his body, his chest, and his lungs, like a vice that had sprung free. The air choked him, as if each particle were coated with a smoky darkness. He struggled to breathe without coughing, convincing, training his mind to accept it. He looked around him. Over the edge of the plain he saw the small village below. Children ran about, their bright clothing creating a beautiful mosaic the mix of colors swirling and melting into one another. He was mesmerized.

"Breathe," the voice whispered in his ear.

Anakin tore his gaze away from the village and turned back toward the meadow behind him, straining to find the two figures in the distance. He saw his Master, his auburn eyes flickering in the waning daylight making it look as though his eyes were absorbing the setting suns instead of the far-off horizon. Then he saw himself, sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, hands on his knees, palms up with each thumb pressed against his middle fingers.

"You do not need this body," his Master's voice whispered as if he stood right beside him.

"I do not need this body," Anakin repeated.


	58. Chapter 58

_It is Your Destiny…_

The Eclipse _(Deep Space, several weeks later)_

"Arrrhh," Leia growled as she slung her lightsaber across the room.

Luke twisted gracefully and met the twirling weapon with his own. "_Nice_," he gritted through his teeth.

With a flick of her wrist, Leia brought her lightsaber back to her, the sound of it slapping into the palm of her awaiting hand echoing through the small training room as if in triumph. In the same fluid motion she jumped up, twisting her body through a tight somersault and landing before her brother while slashing the thrumming violet blade toward his head.

Luke lifted his weapon defensively, the green of his lightsaber sparkling and crackling against his sister's as he struggled to push her away from him.

Leia pressed her advantage, throwing all of her weight into keeping her brother down. She then withdrew suddenly, stepping to the side and sending Luke tripping forward for balance.

"Unh," Leia grunted as she took advantage of Luke's momentary weakness, pivoting around and dealing the killing blow solidly against the back of her brother's neck.

"Ow!" Luke protested as he fell to the mat and rubbed his hand against the spot where his head would've been severed. "You beheaded me?" He asked incredulously.

Leia thumbed the deactivation button on her training saber and enjoyed the purring noise that it made as it shut down. She was breathing heavily, sweat beading at her scalp and dripping down the sides of her face. "I thought it might be an improvement," she replied, smiling down at Luke as she held her hand out to help him to his feet.

"You're stronger," he said, the words implying something that didn't exactly sound like a compliment.

"Thank you," she replied, ignoring the provocation.

"We'll be out of this training room soon," Luke stated, as he looked around the room, his chest still heaving from the breathlessness of battle. "When Timmons and Arch return, it'll be time to strike at our enemy. No more practicing."

Timmons and Arch, the two Jedi that had been sent to return to the Empire's superweapon were due back two days ago. The entire squad, along with the crew of the _Eclipse_, was on edge. Their return, with its promise of war obediently following it, was imminent. "A Jedi does not yearn for battle, Luke," she replied, taking a stab at provoking her brother.

He studied her, not responding right away. It was easier to trip him up during sparring lessons, she noted. "You were spending a lot of time with General Solo," he finally said.

She walked toward the exit, grabbed a towel and began to wipe her face. "Yes," she answered. There were weeks that had gone by when she would share a table with Han at breakfast, spend hours at the command center helping him review reports and exercise drills and her brother had said nothing. Now, ever since she had kissed Han in the conference room that day, the pair had not been breakfasting together, not spending hardly any time together at all. And now Luke wanted to bring it up? She thought he would have been relieved at the turn of events.

"Something happened," he stated.

_Sometimes the absence of something is something_; one of her Masters had taught her that. _Indeed_. She knew it, even before her brother now pulled it to the surface. Ever since that kiss - a kiss that even after days and nights of contemplating it she would still not take back – there had been a palpable difference in her and Han's relationship. It was as if the awkwardness and deflection was somehow more intimate than their open friendship had been. She had felt it that day that he had worked on her X-wing yet she knew back then that she had been unable to define it. She had opened a door, and the veil of pretense that had hovered between them, had quite literally flown out the window. "It was nothing," Leia said, realizing that she had taken too long to answer. "A misunderstanding. You know how we can disagree."

"Yes, I do," Luke answered calmly. "And the fact that you're not disagreeing, not even acknowledging each other except when absolutely necessary, speaks volumes."

She shook her head, staring him down, not wanting to answer him because she knew that she could not.

"Now is not the time to falter," Luke said, his expression warning, his voice cold.

Leia opened her mouth to speak but the words were stolen from her throat by the cold presence that had entered the room. She felt the blood drain from her face, her knees collapsing beneath her. She knew, vaguely, that she was in Luke's arms. She could hear him crying her name, but she couldn't grasp the reality of any of it as she stood staring at the figure of her father, luminescent and hovering as it flickered like a holovid with a bad connection. He held his hands up to her, as if trying to calm her.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

><p>She came back to consciousness in that slow, languid pace of someone grasping onto the remnants of a dream. Her mouth felt dry and the lights of the room surrounding her pulsated with a warm, red glow as if dousing everything in blood and then taking it away again. It was only a dream. She shut her eyes, not ready to wake from it. Where was her father? She reached out for him, he had seemed so close, but now it was as if he didn't exist any longer.<p>

"Leia?"

She heard her brother's voice, soft and tentative.

"Father," she whispered, her voice croaking through the dryness.

"It's Luke," he replied. She felt him grab her hand.

"He was here. Where is he?"

"Who?" Luke asked, squeezing his hand around hers.

"Father, he was here. Where'd he go?"

There was a long silence. She felt as if he were double checking something. "Leia, you fainted. Just rest. Everything's going to be okay."

_Just rest_. She heard his words and concentrated on them. She felt tired. Her eyelids fluttered. She could see her brother; it felt safe. She gave up fighting and went back to sleep.


	59. Chapter 59

A/N: Thanks to my beta readers: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter.

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

Luke had kept a silent vigil by Leia's side as she rested in a small room in the _Eclipse's_ medical wing. He had been sitting next to her, his eyes shut in contemplation when he heard a voice saying, "How is she?"

It was Han Solo. Luke had sensed him approaching. Opening his eyes, Luke turned to his commanding officer. Han stood just inside the doorway as if he were unsure if he would be welcomed. "They sedated her so that she would rest," Luke said. "Performed some tests, I guess. They made me leave the room." He finished with a shrug; he had hated leaving her alone when she appeared so uncharacteristically vulnerable. He looked down at her sleeping. He had thought, naively, that he could influence and control her but the only thing that had gotten him was a distance between them that not even their Force bond could breach.

"Blood was drawn and a full workup was done," Han replied, still standing near the doorway. "It's normal procedure for this type of event."

Han's words were only momentarily disconcerting. The 'event' to Luke had been anything but normal, but to Han and the rest of the _Eclipse's_ crew, Leia had merely fainted. Luke hadn't told anyone about what he thought had actually happened. He did not function well, he realized, without someone to rely on. As a twin, his sister had naturally assumed that role. He wondered where he would ever find that balance again now that it seemed that he stood all alone. "Right," Luke finally replied to Han, as if just remembering it was his turn to speak.

Han took a step closer. "What _did_ happen, Luke?"

By the way he asked the question, Luke could only assume that Han had read his reaction. The man had the skill of a Jedi in that regard. Luke took a moment to quickly ascertain Han's reason for asking, gently probing into his motives and emotions. Han Solo was by no means an open book, but he had never been completely closed off, either - at least not where Luke was concerned.

At the forefront of Han's mind, Luke found a natural concern for Leia, not any more or less than he would feel for any member of his crew. In the background, Luke could sense the pending events regarding the reconnaissance mission and the space station weighing heavily on the Corellian general and that was by far the most easily evident of all his thoughts. Everything in between, however, was a great murky mess.

When a Jedi shielded their emotions from another Jedi, it felt like a literal wall one would have to climb, break or otherwise try to bust through. In Han it felt more like a scattering of emotions, like shredding a flimsiplast and throwing it into the winds. Everything was there and available if one might have the time, patience and will to gather it up and sort it out, but it would not be easy. Luke wondered if this was something that came naturally to him, or perhaps something that he had been taught. Overall, however, he didn't find anything out of place or alarming. "I think she had a vision," he finally confessed.

"_A vision?_" Han asked incredulously. "Of what?"

"Our father, I think," Luke replied looking back at his sister.

Luke had not felt his father's presence at all, yet every indication was that Anakin Skywalker had appeared to her. That fact alone had brought forth lingering questions for Luke, questions he had spent the majority of his vigil contemplating. Was he not as strong in the Force as she? Was he not gifted with the ability to experience a Force vision? Or did his father reach out specifically for her and in that same regard, specifically _not_ to him? Each scenario nursed an inherent mistrust and jealousy of his father and sister that he had done his best to sequester or ignore. As these thoughts were inadvertently brought to the surface, such as now, they only served to compound his nagging shame and guilt.

Han had turned around and shut the door to the room. He seemed anxious; his eyes, for the first time, darting towards Leia.

Luke shut his eyes. He could not bother anymore with his petty jealousy and anger with Han and Leia for something that they had not yet done in this lifetime. The more he tried to control the situation, the more he felt it spiraling out of his reach anyway. It was going against his grain to be distant and aloof to two people that he felt were his closest friends. Yet, everything was telling him that something was not right. What to do? The conflict between him felt as if he were going to literally break into two. He wondered when he would reach his limit. He feared what the consequences might be.

"We were sparring," Luke finally said as he opened his eyes and took a deep breath. "We had just finished. She had won." He stopped, remembering how powerful she had been. "All of a sudden it looked as if she were seeing something that I wasn't…or couldn't. She seemed stricken with fear, unable to breathe even. She collapsed in my arms. But…"

"You said she _seemed_ to see something. Why do you think it was your father?"

"That came later. When she was here, she woke briefly and asked for him. Said that he had been there."

Han watched him, studying him for a moment. "And what were you going to say before? You left off before you said something."

"When she froze," Luke said, his voice soft. "It was as if she was stricken with fear but I sensed no terror through the Force. Her body was paralyzed, but her mind was…peaceful."

Han ran his fingers through his hair, turning away from Luke for a moment before quickly turning back. "Her blood work indicated mild exhaustion," he stated, looking back down at Leia. "Maybe she was just dreaming when she woke up? Thought she had seen your father, didn't even know where she was?"

"That's…not the indication that I got, but you could be right. I guess we won't know until these drugs wear off."

"Listen, Luke. I don't want you to go against whatever…." He waved his hand around and looked unable to find the words he was looking for and then, seeming content without having to name them, he continued, "But, we're on a military vessel and mild exhaustion is one thing, but if her chart were to start reflecting otherwise, she would have to be relieved of duty. At the very least."

Luke had watched Han struggle for the right words to say. He realized then, that Han did not like to recognize or to name the power that he, Leia and the other Jedi wielded. It was as if he preferred to remain ignorant about it rather than strive to define it or accept it. Luke felt as if this were the first time he were seeing the man more clearly, as if some fog was lifting that had surrounded him and as if the answer to some problem was teasing him with its simplicity at the back of his mind. "I understand," Luke replied. "I only told you because I thought you should know as our commanding officer…and friend."

Han drew in a breath and then released it. "Look," he said, for the first time utilizing his non-military voice that Luke hadn't had the privilege of hearing in quite a long time. "Don't misunderstand me. If it's not safe for her to fly, I would be the last one who would want to send her out there. I know you would, too. I guess what I'm trying to say is: what exactly do you want me to do with this information that you just shared with me? Did you tell me as her commanding officer or as her friend?"

Luke looked over to his sister. "I'll know more when she wakes, but I'm guessing now that I just told you as a friend." There was a feeling as Luke said the words, like a familiar tune playing in the distance that he could not quite identify but recognized it all the same. If only he could grab its notes and find its tune, it felt as if all the answers were lying right there in it, just out of his reach.

"Mild exhaustion it is, then," Han said dimly. "I'll expect an update if anything changes."

Luke didn't reply right away, in fact he barely heard what Han had said; his mind was still off chasing that tune.

"I'll…see myself out," Han's voice said.

The sound of the door opening snapped Luke out of his thoughts. When he turned he saw Han leaving. "Han?" He called.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Thanks for looking out for her…for us," he said sincerely.

"Don't mention it," Han replied with a half-smirk as he turned and left the room.


	60. Chapter 60

_It is Your Destiny…_

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

"I feel like I've been trampled by a herd of angry banthas."

Luke smiled at his sister and watched as the medical droid hovered through the door and out of the room. He turned back to look at her, smiling. "Well, you look great."

She eyed him cautiously, adjusting herself in the small medical bunk. "What is it? Am I dying?"

"No," he said with a smile. "It's just, good to see you awake, is all."

"You haven't been this glad to see me in quite a while," she said as a statement of fact, without malevolence or judgment.

"I know and that's part of it," he replied.

"Part of what?"

"Part of the reason I'm glad that you're awake. I've been worried about you, sure. But mostly, I've been wanting to talk to you. You know? Like we used to."

"Like we used to? Let's see. Does that mean you want to argue about my training or lecture me about my dedication?"

"You make it sound as if we were never friends." He realized, too late, how much emotion he had put into that sentence. Just how much it revealed.

His raw display seemed to affect her at least, the smile fading from her lips before she spoke. "I never thought you were interested in being my friend. But I've always been yours."

"You never seemed to need me and I…"

She laughed a small, restrained laugh. "I think I might still be hallucinating, Luke, because," she stopped, her eyes narrowing. "What brought all this on?"

"I haven't been fair to you. I realized as I sat here that I've always thought of you as the other half of me. That all I could see in you were the parts of me that I most yearned to be but couldn't." _I was jealous_, he thought but did not say. "But you are not my other half. I guess I realized, I hope not too late, that you are complete and alright, that we both are, in our own way."

Leia pushed herself up so that she was sitting upright. It seemed that she did not feel the need to speak, preferring instead to let Luke's words linger in the air between them. In the silence, he felt her accepting them and understanding them if not quite fully believing them. And then, as if nothing more needed to be discussed about what he had said, she changed the subject by asking, "Did you sense father when I collapsed?"

He hesitated, pride temporarily blocking the confession at the back of his throat. "No," he finally stated.

She did not seem to notice or identify the emotion behind the word. "He was there, Luke. Standing right in front of me and it was…oddly comforting. Almost like…"

Her thought trailed off into the silence. He had told Han that she had felt peaceful through the Force. Hearing her describe it brought those memories back to the surface. "Force visions," Luke started, cautious of forming his thoughts into words. "Don't usually come from the living."

"I don't think it was a Force vision," she said slowly as if she were choosing her words carefully. "From what I've read about them, it wasn't exactly the same."

"How so?"

"A Force vision comes _through_ you. It's a connection from one Jedi to another that can reach across a dimension. This felt more like…a projection." She shook her head. "As if father were actually placing himself onboard this vessel. It felt weak, unpracticed. I think he was as surprised as I was."

"That doesn't make sense. If he wasn't projected through you but projected himself, then why couldn't I see him?"

She looked at him, as if she had not considered it. "I don't know."

The jaws in his muscle tightened. "When I reach for him now, it is as you say, as if he is in one place but walking around in another."

She furrowed her brow as if reaching out for their father and finding him in the exact way that Luke described. "What is he doing?" She asked, looking back to Luke.

He didn't answer her. The entire conversation had become difficult for him. "This…projection. It reeks of the Dark Side. It feels duplicitous."

"How can it _feel_ anything to you when you didn't even feel it?"

_I feel it now_, he wanted to yell, but didn't because honestly, he wasn't quite sure what it felt like, only that he wanted to describe it as the Dark Side.

"Gods, Luke, sometimes I can't even believe we grew up in the same family. I'll tell you what reeks, your close-mindedness. It's everything father didn't want us to be."

"This is where my struggle lies," he said slowly, not meaning to say it but hearing the thoughts come out of him and transformed into words unbidden.

"I know what I felt," Leia said. "I trust myself, more so than any teachings and certainly any millennia-old code. I do not follow father blindly or the Jedi." She stopped, looked at him for a moment. He thought she was thinking of something else, perhaps of her covert message from the past. She lifted her chin. "I don't follow anything or anyone blindly," she finally said, her words holding the conviction that Luke realized at that moment he admired most in her.

It wasn't as if Luke didn't question some of his father's teachings or of the Jedi Code, but he just did not seem to find it as easy as Leia to trust in himself above all others. His father, who some thought was the Chosen One and the millennia-old code of the Jedi were not to be taken lightly in his opinion. How was it that he could pass judgment on something that so many others would not even consider ever to be in question? But the older he got, the more he recognized Leia's 'recklessness' as unadulterated Force use in its purest form, perhaps in the only form it was ever meant to be in. 'Trust in the Force', to a Force user must translate into 'Trust in yourself', must it not? Luke felt as if his entire world had been flipped on its head.

Leia had lain back in her bed. She seemed content in watching him and waiting for him to come to whatever conclusion that he might arrive at. That was the thing about his sister, he thought. For whatever he decided to do, he knew that she would find a way to accept it and build her life around it in anyway such that it would not trample on her own principles yet allow him to live by his. He, who had lived his life feeling more right, more just, more deserved than his headstrong sister, found this new revelation a difficult pill to swallow. But that was only pride, he realized and that was uglier than anything that Leia had ever even alluded to.

"You've given me much to think about," he said finally.

"Try not to _think_ too much, Luke," she said, her voice half-teasing although he knew that she was serious.

He smiled at her. "I'll keep that in mind."


	61. Chapter 61

_It is Your Destiny…_

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

Han Solo walked down the deserted corridors of _The Eclipse's_ medical wing. Someday, in the very near future, these halls may be busy with medical personnel and the wounded. Today, they held but one lone patient and that was who Han was coming to see. It had only been a few days since Leia's collapse. He had checked in on her while she rested as was his prerogative as Commander of this ship. Luke had been an ever-present figure standing guard at her side, like a watchdog growling at her feet. It had not bothered him. He would not let it bother him. Although somewhere deep within him, he envied Luke the transparency of his concern for her.

He rounded the corner and entered her room. The lights were dialed up to their fullest luminescence and her bed was empty. Luke, the loyal guardsman, was not there. There was a medical droid interfacing with a piece of equipment that was at the head of the bed. Han glanced toward the other side of the room and saw a thin partition separating the basin and bath area. He could see a slight shadowy figure moving beyond the diaphanous divider.

"How's the patient?" Han asked, clearing his throat. He was speaking to the medical droid while his eyes were transfixed on that screen. The figure froze for a moment at the sound of his voice but just as quickly began moving again. He saw her sliding a shirt over her head.

"General Solo. The patient has been released to active duty. No restrictions. Diagnosis: exhaustion. The patient has received suggestions for treatment. No further limitations necessary," the droid replied.

"Good," Han said. He had not been entirely comfortable with the news Luke had given him and exhaustion was too vague of a diagnosis for his comfort, but it was plausible - and preferable - nonetheless.

"_Good_, he says," Leia's voice mimicked from behind the curtain. "I say finally," she continued as she came around the partition and walked towards him. "I was ready to get out of here two days ago. I haven't been forced to nap since I was two."

"I pity the nanny that had that job," Han replied before taking a step nearer and placing his hands on the sides of her face. He could tell by her reaction that the move startled her. He took his thumbs and pulled down on the skin of her cheeks, widening her eyes as he studied them. The contact was very clinical in nature but his heartbeat thrummed quickly just the same. "Exhaustion is nothing to take lightly," he said, dropping his hands, content in what he saw. "Especially while flying maneuvers and joining a battle meld."

"I did not have a nanny," she answered, her voice strangely firm. "And I was not exhausted."

He studied her for a moment. Luke had given Han the all clear, yet it did not seem that the young Jedi had reviewed their discussion with Leia. "Have you talked to your brother?" He asked.

"About what?"

Judging by the look on her face, Luke had neither confided in her that Han knew of her vision or the fact that it would serve her best to plead exhaustion. He wondered what the siblings had talked about at all. "Two-One-Bee?" Han said, speaking to the medical droid but holding Leia's piercing gaze.

"Yes sir, General Solo?"

"Will you excuse us, please?"

"Why, of course," the droid replied happily as he floated out of the room leaving the two humans standing alone.

"You were suffering from exhaustion," Han stated again.

"I was-"

"Your chart says exhaustion. That's what it was. Anything else will not be discussed openly," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. He watched as comprehension slid across her features.

"I understand," she replied.

He curled his hands into fists. He could still imagine them pressed against her face. "I came to update you. I didn't know you were being discharged."

Her eyes flickered with interest. "Update me on what? What's happened?"

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Timmons has returned and the superweapon is on the move."

"Timmons? What about Arch?"

"Arch…attached his StealthX to the super structure. He's emitting location coordinates to us intermittently."

"_Attached_ himself…?" She cried out, her hand covering her mouth as she turned away from him.

It bothered him that she hid this side of her, this person who showed concern for her fellow man. "There's a lot that has happened within the last hour," he said to her back. "In light of everything, I had to debrief Coruscant on what happened. They're sending an oversight committee."

She shook her head. "Who?" She asked, still not facing him.

"Madine and Cracken for sure. Master Tiin. I don't know who else." His voice sounded defeated. He didn't let anyone else hear him speak this way. It was in that moment that he realized just how much he had missed talking to her.

She turned around, there was a fire beginning to light in her eyes. "We're all behind you. We'll stand together on this."

A great part of him wanted to believe her. Months under his direction had softened the rumors about his right to command, but the undercurrent of doubt was still there. He imagined his squad crumbling under the scrutiny of an inquisition. He felt powerless against the threat of it; it felt like trying to hold water in his fist – everything was just slipping away.

"I know you're questioning every move, every decision," Leia said, as if reading his thoughts. "But you have to stand strong. You did the right thing."

"I came here," he said slowly. "I guess I came here because I knew you would say that. And…" _It was what I needed to hear_, he thought but did not say it.

"I'm sorry that what I did separated us," she whispered, referring - he was sure - to that kiss.

He noticed that she did not apologize for what she did, but only for the affect that it had on them. Her carefully chosen words intrigued him and he admired her for saying them, although he fought not to show it. "There's no need to discuss that any further," he replied. "It's in the past."

"Then we agree." A soft blush painted her cheeks. He thought that she never looked more beautiful. The silent admission a slap in the face to what they had just agreed to.

"Are you up for a meeting?" He asked, quickly moving to safer and surer territory. "I called the squad together to debrief them before the committee's arrival. I didn't think you'd be able to make it."

"Anything but these four walls sounds great," she said lightly. Her blush had deepened and he could tell that she was struggling to cover from her lapse.

He smiled, held his hand out and let her lead the way. He could not see her face any longer as she walked ahead of him. He could not be certain that she was pulling in and letting out her breaths in an effort to ease the heat that had painted her features. But he was never surer of anything all the same.


	62. Chapter 62

A/N: **Warning**: Please note that the rating has moved up from a "T" to an "M" as we will begin to flirt with some mature content in the chapter below and the story to follow. I will include warnings at the top of any forthcoming chapters that might also contain mature content.

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny<em>…

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

It wasn't until he had seen her again that Han realized just how long it had been since he had been with a woman. When Natalia had stepped off the shuttle following Airen Cracken, Han's body immediately responded to his last, very vivid, memories of her. When she eyed him from across the room during the endless meetings, he knew that she was, in a very similar fashion, recalling their final goodbyes. His body ached with the want of release that her nearness promised it. He wondered briefly if Cracken had brought her on purpose to throw him off balance.

"What's this?" Madine was saying, blowing out a heavy breath.

Han squirmed in his chair, sitting up abruptly. The meeting had gone on for hours; Chewbacca, his crewman, Jedi, and lieutenant had all come and gone with every whim of the investigating committee, and now only Han remained.

"What is this entry in the logs?" Madine said again. "It looks like…you handed control of the vessel to your _navigational officer_?"

Han sank back into his chair. After exhaustively reviewing every second of every minute that had transpired since Arch and Timmons had left, now it seemed they were reviewing every detail of everything that had preceded it. "Baringer, yes," Han replied calmly. "He's a good officer."

"A good officer?" Madine echoed. "I hope you have more to say on the matter than that."

* * *

><p>Han dropped his body onto the sofa in his quarters. Sixteen hours of endless questions were finally over…for now. The Jedi Master, Master Tiin, had called for an eight hour hiatus. <em>At last<em>. Han leaned his head against the cushions. He didn't care anymore about what they would do. He had a good indication that although they were upset at not being consulted, they were not exactly displeased with his actions or the results they were promising to bring.

He closed his eyes, the silence of his room echoing between his ears. The chime sounded for his apartment. He groaned and turned his face against the pillows, hoping that whoever it was might go away. It chimed again. He rose and headed for the entryway, opening the door without even verifying who it was.

It was Natalia.

"I'm sure you're exhausted. I know I am," she was saying. "But…"

He knew her mouth was moving; knew vaguely what she was trying to convey. But the blood from his brain was quickly rushing elsewhere and all of a sudden, sleep was the last thing on his mind. "That's okay," he found himself saying as he took a step backwards. "C'mon in."

Natalia entered his suite; he could tell that she was uneasy, unsure if she was welcomed in his personal life anymore. It had been a long time. The dull, twisting tightness in his groin reminded him just how long it had been. As soon as the door to his quarters slid shut, she turned to look at him. There was an underlying energy to the way their eyes met, as if some unspoken action was twirling around inside of each of them waiting to break free.

"Congratulations on your promotion," he said. She had been promoted to Cracken's Logistics Captain, a rank he felt sincerely that she had earned and deserved.

"Thank you," she replied and then remained silent, her eyes never leaving him. "You look good," she finally said, her face breaking into a relieved smile.

It was a signal, a message. She was making it painfully clear that she was not here on any manner of business. "So do you," Han answered truthfully, because she did. He had forgotten how beautiful she was and as his eyes raked over the length of her body he did his best to recapture every dip and curve where his hands, his mouth and his tongue had been when he had seen her last.

She was in his arms; it happened so suddenly he felt as if he had missed a moment in time. The instant that it took her to walk two steps towards him, fling her arms around his neck, mold her body to his, painfully pressing his need for her against her stomach, crashing her lips against his mouth before he even knew that he was responding. He kissed her deeply, trailing his hands down the sides of her body and up to squeeze her breasts. In his mind he could see them beneath his hands, in his thoughts he could hear her voice.

Natalia moaned a low guttural growl of desire and the familiarity of the noise worked at priming his body for what it knew would soon follow it. His mind struggled to keep up. It was a feeling of somehow being disconnected as if part of him was in reality and part was not. He shut his eyes to the confusion, wanting only to enjoy himself to find that release that had been eluding him all these restless nights aboard this ship. The frustration of his dreams finally coming to an end.

He was removing her shirt, could feel her trembling hands at his waistband when it first hit him. A pointed memory and one worn thin from use that fluttered across his mind: of soft lips pressed against his. _Stop_. His body, aching and acting on primal instincts, driven by something greater and stronger than his consciousness, drowned out the screeching brakes slamming down in his mind. _No_. He saw wide brown eyes staring up at him as he rested his hands on the sides of an innocent face. He pulled away from her, from Natalia, breaking their kiss. She looked up to him, her green eyes lidded with desire. She did not seem to notice his reticence as she had the fasteners of his pants open, and her hand was sliding down-

"Don't," he said grabbing her hand and even his breathlessness could not conceal the deliberateness behind the word.

She stopped, her eyes searching his for an answer he could tell she could not immediately comprehend. "What's the matter?" She looked as if she thought he might be considering a change of venue or would be asking her about contraception, anything that meant that they might soon continue.

"I…" It was the first time that he thought of Leia, although he realized right then that he had been imagining it was her the entire time. Just the surfacing of her name in his mind, bringing confirmation to his thoughts, hit him like a load of duracrete. "I can't," he said, stepping back, severing all contact between him and Natalia.

"Why?"

She seemed genuinely shocked and Han felt a sharp pang of guilt. How had he let things get this far, he asked himself. Both with Natalia and with Leia? He shook his head; the reality of what this meant pelting him like rain coming from every direction. There was no escaping it.

Natalia clasped her hand around the front of her blouse covering herself diffidently. "Is there someone else?"

Her question hit him like a blow to the gut and in that moment he felt all of his blood drain from everywhere. He looked away. _Is there someone else?_ He shook his head "no" both to her question and his own. He looked back at her, straight on, in defiance to her question and as if in proof of his unspoken answer.

"Oh," she whispered, stepping back from him as if she had been struck.

He watched her as she buttoned the clasps of her uniform, furrowing his brow as if he had missed something.

"You'd like there to be someone else," she clarified for him, seeming to understand that he didn't even know it himself. "You'd like me to _be_ someone else."

He felt as if everything, every hidden desire and useless denial, was written all over his face. He felt naked, defenseless against accepting something that he had no means to escape any longer. _Yes_, he decided. _That was it_. He felt an overwhelming urge to thank her for setting the lie free. "I'm sorry," he said.

"It's okay," she answered, looking uncomfortable in her own skin. "I should go."

"I cared for you," he stated, the words blurted out quickly. He knew that he had said them for her benefit, knew that at this juncture she needed to hear them from him so he gave that to her as alms. Somewhere in the back of his mind he reminded himself that he had never said as much to Leia, even after everything they had been through and even though he realized that his feelings for her ran deeper than any he had ever felt before.

"Thank you," Natalia whispered and then she stepped around him and let herself out of his room.

The sound of his door cycling shut announced her exit. Han stood in the middle of his living area, stark still, contemplating. The silence of his apartment was once again a deafening echo inside of his head and pain spread across his features as he forced his mind to accept a fact that it felt entirely impossible to be true. The length of his body cast a long shadow across the floor of his apartment, unmoving and larger than himself. Still he stood, staring. And he remained that way for a long while.


	63. Chapter 63

_A/N: Thanks go out to Zyra, Lady Peter and Solo Smirk for their continued advice and input._

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><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

Leia made her way back to the Command Center. The informal trial of General Solo had been suspended. New intel had been received from Arch's signal emitter. The superweapon was moving into the Core Worlds. The members of the Republic Military that had been present to question Han's command were now strategizing with him. She doubted anything more would be done about his breach in protocol.

When she entered the crowded room she could immediately tell that something had changed. All morning they had watched and waited in vain for additional coordinates from Arch's location beacon. They had recently begun to leave in shifts, informally, to eat, freshen up and otherwise regroup. She had grabbed a ration bar and visited the refresher. She hadn't been gone for more than a quarter of an hour, yet the mood had shifted from anxious anticipation to all out shock and panic.

She pushed her way through the crowd of Jedi and officers so that she could see the command board. It was a large round table that projected a map of the galaxy. When she finally made it to the front she saw three things: first, her brother's face then Han Solo's, and finally, with cautious trepidation in reaction to their stunned expressions, she looked down to the star chart. The most recent coordinates were flashing in an innocuous yellow color. She found them easily, as the previous points of progress from the super weapon's movements were all glowing a cool, solid green. It took her brain several long moments to process what it was seeing. People were still talking all around her; Cracken and Madine were speaking loudly into their comm units, all of it seemed surreal. The blinking yellow light hung as if it were a newly formed moon in orbit of her very own home planet of Naboo.

She looked up to the faces across the table from her. Luke was growing more steadfast and determined with each passing second in time; she could feel him sending reassuring thoughts across the room to her via their Force connection. This was the test of their strength that he had been waiting for, the fight that she had warned him not to look forward to just days previously. Now that it was here and in such a personal way, she pushed his comforting thoughts back at him, like struggling out of an embrace.

She then looked to Han. He was not looking at her any longer, but staring at the glowing yellow non-moon of Naboo. Tonsk, to his right was talking into Han's ear while Cracken was asking questions in his left. She could see his mouth moving as he went through the motions of conversing with them, but his mind was elsewhere, his eyes were seeing something no one else at this table could yet see. The desire to speak with him grabbed hold of her violently like an attacker, fisting at the front of her clothes and dragging her into some dark alley. She wanted desperately to know what he was thinking, what he made of all of this so that she could process it in her own mind. She needed his sound reason and analytical thinking to set free her thoughts that had somehow been frozen in the moment when she first grasped what was happening.

The rest of the long day and evening glided by her as if it was a dream, not even the nightmare that it surely should've been, but just an unreality that she floated down as if on a raft of words, conversations, tactical assessments and commitments. She didn't know what she had said. It didn't matter what she had agreed to. Nothing felt as if she had control of it. Even the movement of her body was if pulled by strings, by a force not of her own volition.

The shuttle carrying Cracken, Madine and their oversight committee had left headed for Coruscant. Leia noted absently that the woman from the dance, the one that had left with Han, had been among the committee members. Han had not seemed affected. She felt certain that she would've picked up on any history that might've resurfaced there, but she quickly dismissed all thoughts of it; now was not the time nor place for such idle concerns.

She knew that Master Tiin had been ordered to remain on _The Eclipse_ as the only tangible retribution for Han's actions. The hours after that were more of a blur than the hours that had preceded them. She was in her quarters, lying in her bed, trying to make sense of the world she now found herself in. She knew that their crew had been dispatched to aid Naboo and that they were speeding through hyperspace as she tried to sleep. She couldn't commit to knowing much else.

* * *

><p>She flung the covers back from her bunk, feeling as if it was the first motion her body had performed since doing the same thing that morning. The call in her mind was almost as plain as a comm unit ringing out pleading for an answer. She could feel him thinking, doubting, daring. It took her only moments to get dressed and head back to the command center. When she walked in and found him there alone, he only raised his head to her infinitesimally, in recognition that she was finally there but not in any kind of astonishment that she had come.<p>

She came around the table to stand on the same side of it, near him but not next to him, so that she could see in the same line of vision what he saw. She let his mind race about its thoughts and she shared the silence with him, waiting and knowing that he would speak when he had puzzled out exactly what it was that he wanted to say, also knowing that whatever it would be, it would come from hours of contemplation and trepidation.

"The Empire built this thing," he finally said, his eyes on the yellow dot of the star map. "This thing that for all we know can destroy our fleet and quite possibly an entire planet."

She said nothing as she tried to do more than just listen to his words, but to actually follow his thoughts.

"They finally move it, probably since they realized that we discovered it," he continued. "Not only move it, but dare to take into the heart of the Republic."

Her eyes tracked the glowing green dotted trail of coordinates that corroborated his story.

"But then, instead of barreling through the gates of Capital City, or threatening the commerce-laden, ship building significant world of Corellia, they choose their nearly immaterial neighbor, Naboo. One of the few core worlds without an army to speak of, or military significant exports of any kind."

"The destruction of a world, _of any world_, would send a message." To her own ears her voice sounded strangely calm. She was proud, as she felt that she was able to detach herself from the fact that she was discussing the fate of her own world.

"But why Naboo?" He said, looking at her for the first time. "What's the significance? What would that get 'em?"

"You know the significance," she whispered, holding his gaze and the proud moment was suddenly gone as all she could think about was her father and her mother, her aunts, cousins and friends.

"To you," he said. "I do. And I'm sorry." In that moment she felt his empathy, but in the next she knew that it was gone and that he, as a general and a commander, could not afford to nourish that feeling for any longer than she could. He looked back at the star map. "But strategically it doesn't make any sense. The real target, the _real_ plan will make perfect sense and a good commander gets in front of that and doesn't get hoodwinked with false parries and ploys. We can't wait for the benefit of hindsight; we have to go with what we know." He stroked his chin and then took his forefinger and drew a line from the Space Station's current location to Coruscant. "The real target is Capital City."

She watched his finger travel over the short distance from Naboo's false moon to the white orb of Coruscant. "How do you know?"

He looked at her and said simply, "Because sometimes to beat a bad guy you need to think like one."

The words shocked her in a way that she did not completely comprehend, leaving an impression like footprints in freshly poured duracrete, deep and shapeless but forever formed and indelible. It was contradictory to the Jedi Code in every way, to think like the bad guy would be to delve into the Dark Side, yet was that the best and perhaps only way to defeat an enemy? Was that why the Sith, throughout history, had never completely been obliterated?

"They'll kick us in the knee," he continued, pointing to Naboo, and then once again dragging his finger across the invisible hyperspace lane to the Galactic Capital, he stated, "but then they'll stab us in the jugular while we're least expecting it, tied up in a battle that we can't win over your home world of Naboo."

She said nothing for a long moment, her silence somehow an acceptance of his theory greater than any words could've been. "What will you do?"

"For now," he replied with a deep sigh. "Get a good night's rest. And tomorrow…hope I find a good answer."

She had imagined, over these past weeks, what he might've looked like when he had left the _Eclipse_ to aid Chewie and the _Millennium Falcon_ when they were under attack or when he had first decided to send Arch and Timmons back to the super weapon against his superior officer's commands. She would not have to imagine that any longer as she studied the tight lines of his face and the dark edge in his eyes and she knew that he had reached some silent decision that he was not yet ready to name. "Master Tiin being here will make it more difficult for you to…command the squad," she told him.

"Which is exactly why he was left behind," he replied as he flipped the switch that doused the illuminated replica of the known galaxy, purging it, along with its looming threat, into the darkness.

She stood with him in the darkened room, not wanting to leave him to his own thoughts. But it was not a selfless desire that drove her; it was not for his sake that she did not want to abandon him. She did not want to imagine that anyone else might have the benefit of acting as his sounding board, not his lieutenant or some transcription datapad not even his own self. If not her, she did not want him to rely on any other body, mind or droid. The feeling swelled inside of her strongly, and she recognized it as jealousy.

She thought back to the fleeting feeling that she had brushed off at the recognition of that woman. It was not the first time she had felt that emotion regarding Han Solo. She recalled experiencing it very strongly at the end of that dance. Yet it was the first time she felt it regarding his mind. She was surprised at its capacity, it held with it so much more than the empty greed of the physical desire she had already known. Never before, even when she had kissed him – although even that made more sense to her now - had she realized how this mental, proprietary hunger was the harbinger to the physical act of making love. She wanted him – all of him - and only now did she realize exactly what that meant on all available levels.

She studied his form as it moved across the room in front of her, imagining the outline of muscles stretching taut beneath his skin as he walked. Her body reacted violently to her thoughts, the puddle of heat pooling in her belly all at once feeling foreign yet familiar. She felt as if her eyes cut through him and as if, should he look at her now, he would see everything inside of her laid bare to him. It was her deepest desire for him to do just that.

"You coming?" His voice came from near the exit. His eyes studying her, but not as she had wished.

She nodded her head, following behind him as they both made their ways back to their quarters. When she left him it was with an ease that came with the certainty that he belonged to her. For the first time since she had heard that message from her previous self, she accepted the fact that not only would he be her future but that it was a perfectly understandable and acceptable concept, one that he had earned and one that she no longer needed to waste any efforts in justifying or figuring out. It now felt as if only _time _separated her from the future that that messenger had promised, time that was no longer rushing forward and dragging her along but standing in front of her and pushing her back.


	64. Chapter 64

_A/N: Big thanks to the Big Three: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter. :-)_

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

Han slept soundly that evening. She still came to him in his dreams, more frequently and more daring now. Like the girl that had risen on the tips of her toes to kiss him in that conference room, oh the things that that girl would do when given the freedom of the unreality of his dreams. He did not try to seize control of his actions as he had grown so used to doing. When he dreamt of Leia that night, it was as if in confirmation of the truth that Natalia had set free, a truth that he no longer had to deny – at least not in the world of his own mind.

* * *

><p>Han stood back in the command center the next day, refreshed and prepared to face whatever the next few hours would bring. He had made a decision; he had made it the night before while Leia stood next to him listening and understanding although neither one of them had given it a voice. When she walked into the room that morning, he was certain that she already knew what he was going to say. The fact that she seemed so resolute and accepting struck him deeply.<p>

"I stayed up half the night trying to make heads or tails of the Empire's strategy against Naboo," Han began. The last of the conversations ceased around the room, the silence following the turning of everyone's attention to Han's voice. "Although I tried and tried to find any other answer for it, I kept coming up with the same conclusion."

He looked to Leia. Her expression was open, waiting, encouraging; everything that he would've expected anyone else in her position _not_ to be. There was a murmur of conversation that traveled around the room; Han gave it its moment of purposeful life before he continued. "Cracken and Madine left here giving me the order to defend Naboo at all costs. We've been traveling all night toward that goal and will be coming out of hyperspace just on the other side of one of Naboo's moons. _The Eclipse_ is to remain there, while the StealthX squadron joins in the attack on the space station."

Once again there was the whisper of discussion amongst his men. Everything he had said thus far had already been known, although the reality was only now being absorbed by the whole of his crew. He looked at Master Tiin, knowing that the Jedi Master had probably already guessed, not of Han's particular words, but only that they would be in contradiction to those orders he had already been given. The man's face was stern and unyielding and in perfect contrast to Leia who was standing next to him.

"Over all of yesterday and last night," Han stated. "I have come up with a different plan of action."

More than just hushed whispers, the room erupted in dialogue and heated debate. Han watched and noted who was questioning whom. Which Jedi huddled together and which of his crew stood alone. He noted that Luke Skywalker stood at the edge of a crowd, not quite excluded from their conversation but not quite participating. The young Jedi met Han's gaze as if the pair had rehearsed the moment to coincide with this point in time. Luke's expression was uncertain and hesitant. Han, as it had been ever since Luke had arrived on the _Eclipse_, felt as if the young Jedi were struggling through some other predicament wholly unrelated to anything Han could fathom. The uneasiness, the apprehension that he felt while exchanging that glance with Luke Skywalker, had him forcing his eyes to travel to someone else, searching out anyone else that could provide him with a more concrete emotion, preferring to perhaps find an all-out aversion to his words and command than the nebulous doubt and mistrust that he got from Luke.

In the next moment, as if in answer to his silent wish, he found Jedi Master Tiin. Leia Skywalker was speaking to him in earnest, yet the man was staring straight at Han. From the way that he was looking at him, Han could tell that he and Leia were discussing him and the discussion was of a personal nature regarding Han Solo, the man and not just the clinical examination of his last words and of his command. The Master appeared skeptical and unyielding to whatever Leia was trying so hard to convey and for the first time Han felt as if he may have miscalculated the significance of having Master Tiin onboard. Han looked away.

"We will come out of hyperspace at the designated location. Two Jedi will depart and provide cover and diversion so as to allow and aid Arch's escape. The three StealthX's will then jump to lightspeed, along with the _Eclipse_, and arrive at Coruscant. That's where I believe the real battle will take place and that's where I believe as a squad we will be needed most. The Republic will have sent most of its fleet to Naboo and it will be left up to us to defend our Capital. We will do so quickly, without raising any alarms with our enemy and without backup from our own military, just as we were designed to be."

Questions and comments began to volley through the air like the airstrikes that awaited them. Some questions blatantly betrayed the Jedi's hesitation. _How do you know? What if you're wrong? _While others confirmed their respect of his command. _Who will go to rescue Arch?_ _Just tell me where to go_. Han let each one wash over him in its own right. As he stood there allowing them this release, he watched as all eyes began to focus on Jedi Master Tiin. He and Leia had continued a clipped conversation that ended as they realized the attention of the room was slowly being handed over to them.

The Jedi Master nodded as if in acceptance of the silent request for him to speak. Leia looked towards Han; her face was stony and unreadable. _I have a bad feeling about this_, Han muttered to himself as the Jedi Master opened his mouth to speak.

"I can sense the certainty in your words and in your choice," Master Tiin said, speaking directly to Han. "I have not served with you or under you. I cannot draw any conclusions as to your military mind." The Master glanced towards Leia and she nodded her head so slightly that Han wondered if he had imagined it. "I was left here by your military leaders to serve as a counterpoint to your…unconventional methods of command; methods of which I have spent the last few days analyzing and evaluating with the splendid benefit of hindsight. I cannot state whether or not your current course of action will someday bear as well under the scrutiny of retrospection. I can only give to the Jedi here that respect my opinion, the advice to look not to me for their direction in this military matter, but to the man that was given the job for a well-deserved reason. You hold it within you, far better than I do, to determine if you should follow this man as he commands you."

The room was silent; Leia's expression had not changed. Only then did he recognize it for what it was. She had not dreaded Master Tiin's words, as Han had first thought, but the series of events (or actions) that would be set into motion as a result of them. A pressure rose in the back of his throat at this realization, a deference and reverence for someone that he had not before thought possible blossomed inside of him at the sight of the determined set of her jaw and the hardness around her eyes.

"It doesn't matter what you've heard anymore," Han said to the people in the room, for the first time acknowledging the underlying question of his command that had lived amongst them like a thief in the night, undermining their cohesion as a true team even as they all in their own ways fought against it. Now the thief would finally have to be recognized and in doing so, allowed to steal everything away from them or be singularly silenced forever. "You've worked long enough with me now," Han continued. "Decide for yourself. I'll respect whatever decision you choose."

He looked around the room at the faces of his crew, reminding himself very slowly and deliberately to just breathe. It was out of his hands now and the moments that followed seemed to linger on forever until, finally, that first voice came echoing over the silence of the crowd.

"We stand together, or not at all."

The voice said, repeating an old credo that Han had brought with him from Corellia and had utilized tiredly on Coruscant. It had become almost a joke by the time their training had ended, it was anything but a joke now, and if anyone doubted that, they only had to look upon the person who had said it. Leia Skywalker stood with her shoulders straight, arms by her side in the exacting military posture that exuded both strength and obedience at the same time. She had spoken the words clearly with a conviction of mind that left no doubt of her faith in the direction of her commanding officer and to Han personally.

He shut his eyes for a moment, almost swept from his feet by the emotion flooding him: the sudden and complete knowledge of her that he felt in that moment. He knew what he was asking of her. Knew even more what courage it took for her to follow him. But it was all so much more than that, as if that wasn't enough.

When he opened his eyes it was to the sounds of the remainder of his crew repeating her words to him. He had won. He had stared down the last of the uncertainty that he had harbored regarding his own right to command, while his entire crew joined him in doing the same, and they had all come out the other side of that exercise stronger than they had ever been before.

The room was erupting with jubilant conversation. He sought out the one person that he wanted to share that moment with. When he found her, their gaze cut across the crowd like daylight breaking through the crack of a window. Gone was the hard look of silent determination that she had worn just a few moments ago, replacing it was something else entirely. It was a look that made Han feel as if they both stood stripped bare with nothing left that they would have to deny or hide or even acknowledge, standing between them. Her gaze had seemed almost glazed over with the vastness of this new reality. When he watched her mind snap back to that moment, when he knew that the protective barrier was sliding down between them once again, she held his gaze confidently, pointedly only for the shortest of moments in what appeared to Han to be a slight nod of acceptance to whatever it was that had just passed between them. And then, without hesitation or urgency but with a precision that suggested she was being pulled by some greater force than her own, she turned and left the room.


	65. Chapter 65

_A/N: Thanks to my beta readers: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter_

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

She left the room. She could feel him watching her; feel his eyes tracking her while she fled. As she rushed down the corridors of the ship, she knew that he would follow her, _was_ following her and knew exactly for what intent. Similar to her Force power, it was as if her wish for it to happen would be enough for it to be true. But it was not a wish, it was an absolute certainty: he would come to her. Her heart raced at the thought and the faster her legs carried her away from him, the more she felt as if she were running towards him and not away.

She reached the corridor that lead to the hangar bay and, before she got there, slid into a conference room. It was the same conference room she and Han had argued in about her not going on that mission. The same conference room where she had kissed him. She pressed her back against the wall, out of breath, her chest heaving with anticipation and excitement, like a child hiding in a game of chase. He entered, walking past her and then stopping abruptly.

For that brief moment Leia internalized what it meant and how it felt to see one's most earnest wish and deepest desire suddenly materialize in the flesh. He had been a stranger that was to be her lover and now he was here, chasing her, finding her. Her heart skipped a beat in time as he turned around slowly, meeting her eyes with a look of curiosity, acceptance and need. The look, him standing there, the sobering realization of what this moment meant, they all hit her like a physical blow, knocking her off-balance. She did not know what she was expecting to see or to feel, but it had not been this or if it had been, it still came as a great shock.

She stood up from the wall on legs that felt unable to support her and turned as if to go. She did not know to where she was running to now, only that she might not yet be ready to be found. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, relieving her of the weight of her own body. In the instant that she told herself that this couldn't be happening his mouth descended upon her and she struggled, her body twisting to resist him as her arms wrapped around his neck preventing him from letting her go. It was as if two moments were meeting in time and the contradiction played out within her during that short struggle until she finally succumbed to it and relinquished control to him, relaxing against him and into their kiss.

He drew her closer in response, guiding her a few paces back until he had her pressed against the wall. It was a total and complete surrender and she felt herself melting into him as one's body might evaporate into a dense fog. Damn the woman who had so long ago warned of the power this man could have over her, she thought heatedly as she heard the sound of her own whimpering disappearing into his mouth. It was an awkward type of jealousy that raced through her then, knowing that some other woman in some other life had known him this way first – even if that woman had somehow been her! She pulled him to her, stressing the fact that he was there in her arms, that he was hers and not as part of some mysterious past, but now in the reality of that moment.

"Leia," he finally spoke, breathlessly, their chests heaving against one another, their lips only breaths apart. He rested his forehead to hers. "I'm only playing a hunch here."

She knew instinctively what he was talking about – the mission – and she knew what this was. His confession that he was but a mortal man, making a choice that she was following and in doing so, she had the most to lose and so had more of a right to question it. "I know it," she replied huskily.

She watched as her confession, or concession, broke over him like waves against a bulkhead. She watched as each emotion lapped over him in time with the acceptance of her words. She was not certain from where her trust in him derived from. Was it from the knowledge she had been given that she was not supposed to have? Or was it from the man that she had spent the last several years studying and yearning to know and understand? When she saw him then, really saw him, she saw both men: the Han Solo that had been a veiled promise of something, an enigmatic mystery of her future and Han Solo the man that now held her in his arms and made her feel as if there was nowhere else in the galaxy that she was supposed to be.

He took his hand, slowly and silently, with the backs of his knuckles, delicately outlined the side of her face. His eyes watched intently the movement of his fingers as if he would later recall their path and replay and cherish the memory as one of his most guarded. She shut her eyes, moved by the tenderness beneath the gesture. It was too late, she told herself in a moan of self-reproach. Too late, no matter what promises she had made to herself, to her brother and to the fate of the galaxy, she could not escape this man. In that moment, behind the darkness of her closed eyelids and with the whole of his body still pressed against hers, the two men became one in her mind: Han Solo, the man that she would have and the man that already had her. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, his hand now resting at her shoulder in the crook of her neck, his thumb stroking the skin behind her ear.

She swallowed and, in an attempt to bring some levity to the situation for herself if no one else, she said, "I believe I've already been reprimanded for fraternizing with my commanding officer."

"In this very room," Han replied simply.

She recalled the quick kiss that she had granted him and compared it to the searing, indefinable thing that he had just doled upon her. "I think _my_ lapse was much less severe," she said lightly.

Han's face remained serious, his tone slow and even. "Not to me."

She was struck by his words, by the nakedness of their admission. He held her gaze then, knowing and wanting her to read everything that was meant behind it. Of course she had witnessed the change in the dynamic between them following that kiss. But she had attributed it more to his professionalism than to his passion. She knew now that she had been wholly mistaken. The thought fueled her desire to influence him further, to drive him to go against any and all preconceptions he had about their relationship, just as she herself was being subjected to do. If one small kiss had affected him so greatly, what would lie in the aftermath of a complete unleashing of her emotions?

She grabbed the back of his head and crashed his face against hers, all pretenses and any semblance of indifference or reticence that she had shown earlier, now negated by her actions. She opened her mouth to him, shared the deepest of kisses, moaned as his hands grabbed at hers and removed them from the sides of his head proving that their presence was not required to keep him wherever it was that she wanted him to be. Her hands, now freed, went directly to his chest, gliding over his uniform, skidding across his buttons. She pushed his body away from her, their mouths still together as her fingers worked furiously, not knowing what she wanted to do, only knowing that she wanted more of him, to see more, touch more, to feel-

He stopped her, pulling away as he placed his hands on top of hers, the tips of her fingers only just coming into contact with the coarse hair underneath his shirt, the strong thump of his beating heart pulsating beneath her touch. "Leia," he said, his expression stony. "We can't."

She shook her head once and her mouth opened in silent question.

"Not here," he replied.

Her eyes darted to the side, her mind mentally calculating whose quarters were closer.

He followed her train of thought, gave her hands a squeeze. "Not now," he amended.

"Tell me why." It was a simple request to fulfill a simple need. She was a person that functioned on reason, when and if at all possible. She knew that she was not misreading him. She felt certain that he did not care about the military rules. What then? Before everything, she had to know that he was just as affected as she was.

He sighed. "I'm a whole lot older than you," he said. "And I recognize this more fully for what it is."

She took her hands back, drawing away from him. Wanting to hear what else he had to say but at the same time, wishing that he would not continue for fear of what he might be saying.

From the look on his face she could tell that he had read her reaction. "I…want this," he started as if to reassure her, but the confession appeared almost painful as it crossed his lips. "But there's a reason I followed you here just now. There's a certain amount of stress that we're both under. That _you_ especially are acting under." He paused. "Look, I don't want you to end up regretting two things you decided to do with me today. The one is enough."

She took a deep breath and dropped her gaze, nodding in acceptance and understanding. For him, he had just arrived at this juncture, he had not traveled the same journey as she had to get here. Although part of her still wondered at how he could apply the brakes so easily. _Was_ he not as affected as she was? Could she be mistaken yet again? If there was one thing that she wanted to be sure of now, it was that this possibility, that had seemed so foreign to her when she had first heard of it, was entirely possible and plausible and real. It was like tugging on a cable to test its strength before trusting it to hold one's weight. She had to know for certain before she finally let go.

He took his finger and lifted her face to his. "Are you okay?"

She nodded again, straightening up, looking at him evenly. "I'm just..._impressed_ that you can remain so unaffected. If I hadn't done it myself, I wouldn't even know for sure that you'd just been kissed."

"_Unaffected?_ I don't think I'm ready to discuss all the ways you affect me," he said, then swiped his thumb across her bottom lip and grinned. "But you sure look as though you've just been kissed."

All the ways she affected him? She knew she'd be pondering that comment for the rest of the night. And what did she look like in this moment, she wondered. Did he see it all as completely as he possibly could? She grinned back at him, knowing that he almost certainly did not. _Just been kissed?_ If only that was all that had just happened to her, she thought, he would have the occasion to look even more smug than he already did. She finally replied, her tone light, "Just one of the many hazards of having fair skin, I guess."

He looked at her curiously and for the briefest of moments she felt as if he did, in fact, see more of the picture than he should've been able to. Then, his features relaxed into a lazy smile as he leaned towards her, planting tiny kisses along her lower lip where his thumb had just been; as if replacing - and as such erasing - their crushing kisses from earlier. She tilted her head and parted her lips, inviting him for more. He answered her, his open-mouthed kiss just as tender as the others had been fierce. She wrapped her arms around him, sliding her hands over his shirt but underneath his jacket. It felt intimate, proprietary and she reveled in this new set of emotions that those feelings awoke in her, this drunken and novel feeling that was a delicate mixture of both possession and surrender and that could best be described by the both of them with one simple word: _mine_.


	66. Chapter 66

_A/N: First a big thanks to everyone who is reviewing. I really, really appreciate hearing from you and your continuing encouragement keeps me inspired and writing. __Second: Thanks to my beta readers: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter. Same message to you guys, y'all keep me going. :-)_

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><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

They had regrouped with the others. Everyone had moved to the dining hall to continue the evening over a shared dinner. When she looked around the room, she now wondered if each person she made eye contact with could somehow notice the change in her, and if they could just as easily identify it and name it. So obvious a shift had occurred within her, she felt as if it were written plainly on her face, painted in bright colors across her features, infused inside of her very core and permeating through every pore.

She kept her distance from Han Solo. She was unsure how this new condition would function when subjected to the object of her said transformation. Could she trust herself to speak to him without looking too longingly at his lips, without reaching out too obviously to touch him with a lover's caress? The simple task of forming words into sentences seemed too impossible a feat to accomplish in his presence. There was only one thing that she wanted to do with her mouth should he be near enough for her to speak to him.

That thought brought with it a pleasant warmth that blossomed between her legs and spread down her inner thighs and past her knees, it burned warmly inside of her belly as if she had just drank entirely too much hot kaffe. She knew that everything she was experiencing and thinking was highly inappropriate, knew also that she should be working desperately to quell it, if not at least control it. But she didn't want to. In fact, it was the last thing in the galaxy she felt like doing. She wanted him and she wanted to have him after experiencing the delightful torture that was her absolute need for him. She did not want to curtail this, to squelch it or in any way to diminish it but to let it roam freely. It felt too precious for her to deny it in any way.

It was early when she finally took her leave and left the dining hall. Several people were still eating and the impromptu celebration didn't seem likely to end anytime soon. She no longer wanted to share the moment with anyone else. It was no longer in her capacity to talk and converse as if anything was on her mind save one thing. There were few precious moments during the evening when she reached out for Han. He was not like her brother; he could not easily identify, accept and answer her gentle probing. But he could sense it. She felt his anticipation and need singing violently beneath the undercurrents of his masked emotions. He met her eye each time she dared reach out to him. She did not dare often.

When she entered her room she felt like plopping down on her bunk in an exhaustive heap. The wild ride of emotions that she had been experiencing felt much like she had been exercising beyond her capacity. Her muscles cried with soreness. But she did not give into the urge to collapse. Instead she lowered herself to the floor purposefully, bending her aching limbs into the classic Jedi meditation pose. Her legs were crossed before her, her hands resting on her knees with her palms facing upwards and her thumbs pressed lightly against her middle fingers. She began to breathe deeply and search for balance.

The impetuousness of her thoughts earlier were the first thing to go. A Jedi did not allow one's emotions to control them. She sank deeper, contemplating on her thoughts at dinner, reaching for the control that she had worked so hard at convincing herself she did not need. She released a breath. Were she to pursue this path, it could not be recklessly. But there was the side of her that did not associate her frivolity with recklessness. This was a happiness that felt too pure and right to denounce it so readily as improper. She could not approach this next step such as some monk would. She wanted not only to be Han's partner when she met him on this unfamiliar playing field but to be his match. And greater still, not only his match but perhaps his better. Nothing in her life irked her more than the feeling that she was a novice at something. Nothing at all.

She breathed out. Control, she must exercise control...

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><p>She heard a knock on her door. Her eyes opened, they felt as if they had been closed for hours. With a quick glance at her chrono, she realized that they had. The knock came again, more insistent but still very lightly. She knew who it was. She had planned to go to him that evening; it would be far less conspicuous for her to slink through the executive wing than for him to be found milling around the crew's quarters. The fact that he had come to her, had obviously been unable to wait for her, zipped through her with a delightful tickle.<p>

She got up, using her powers to unravel her body from the meditation pose and leap toward the door in one fluid movement. Her hands and cheek were pressed against the door and she stilled for a moment, wanting for one more second to enjoy the anticipation of seeing Han again, of having his hands and his mouth on her again. The thrill that coursed through her was almost as exhilarating as having the man himself. Almost. She pressed the controls and opened the door.

The top buttons on his uniform had been opened and his outer jacket was undone. His hair was slightly disheveled and she could envision him running his fingers through it for various reasons throughout the evening. In complete contrast to this relaxed appearance, he stood there, his back straight, his posture in rigid formality. She had a sudden desire to grab him by the collar and drag him into her room. Instead, she stood and waited.

"You left early," he said.

"I did."

"Are you alright?"

"I am."

His eyes left her face and looked beyond her into her small apartment. He looked as if he might be expecting to find someone else had beaten him there, some young crewman of his who would now waltz up to them shirtless and sated. She smiled devilishly at the thought, enjoying the pleasure she experienced on imagining Han Solo becoming jealous. His eyes then left her apartment and glanced down the length of her hallway. He looked back to her, his posture relaxing. "Can I come in?" He finally asked.

"You may." She didn't know where the strength was coming from that allowed her to feign this controlled aloofness. Somewhere she thought that she might want to torture him a bit as he had done to her earlier, prove that she could be detached and refined if it were necessary. Then some other part of her admitted that she wanted him to take control of this, that she was not ready to lead while they were here in her room where presumably he would have no reason to stop her. And finally, the last shred of the truth came peaking into the light – that, most importantly, she did not want to be stopped again. She may have been young and inexperienced, but even after hours of sober meditation she knew that she wanted this most desperately.

She cycled the door closed to her quarters and turned to watch him as he walked deeper into her room. It was a small apartment and from where he now stood he could take one step to his left to enter the galley and one step to his right to brush against her bunk. She studied him standing there, his tall figure filling up the room with his presence. What did he want from her? Why had he come here? She realized that his reasons for stopping her earlier had not vanished within the last few hours. Perhaps he had changed his mind? Or better still, maybe his desire for her had worn his resolve thin. She grinned inwardly and stepped towards him.

"I was worried about you," he said, his voice low.

"That wasn't necessary," she replied, the words soft, neither holding any malice nor benevolence in their delivery.

"I wanted to see you," he stated slowly and deliberately as if trying to convey some other meaning beyond the mere words he was saying.

"I've been seen," she replied coolly. If he was on to her she did not know, but she realized that it had definitely become a game between the two of them. A contest of who might break first. It was a game she planned to win.

He swallowed. "I thought maybe you'd want to discuss…earlier."

"_Earlier?_" She replied innocently, lifting her eyebrows with curious intent.

"Yes." He swallowed again, his tone was sharp.

She smiled, he was clearly faltering. "I thought everything had already been discussed," she said easily. "You stated, very clearly, your rationale for not-"

Her words were cut off by his lips on her mouth. She felt his hands on her shoulders drawing her body onto his. His kiss was desperate, probing, validating. In the midst of it all she smiled, when he pulled his head away from her she was laughing.

"What happened to all of your reasons?" She teased him in answer to his burning stare.

His nostrils flared with the long intake of breath that he took in, his expression was tortured but at the same time amused. He looked at her as if he could not figure her out and as if that was the one thing that drew him to her the most. "They're still there," he answered her.

"But then you're here," she replied, dropping her voice to a low sultriness that she had never before had the need or occasion to utilize.

He seemed to physically react to her tone; she could almost follow the shudder that traveled the length of his body in response to it. "You're playing with me," he accused.

"I want to play with you," she said, drawing upon that same tone.

"I tried not to come here," he confessed, it seemed to pain him slightly. "I don't want you to regret this."

She became serious. "You don't need to protect me in that way. This is not something I will ever regret."

When he kissed her then, she did not laugh.


	67. Chapter 67

_A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews. And kudos to my beta readers: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter. Oh, and in case you weren't sure from the previous chapter: **Warning**: Mature Content ahead._

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><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

Han knew, with every fiber of his being, that this was not something that he felt like rushing through. Every button his fingers worked open, every inch of skin that was slowly being revealed to him, every new sound that he coaxed across her lips, it was with a slow deliberateness that he wanted to experience them. Reverently yet possessively, his hands roamed over her, discovering territory that as of yet had only existed to him in his dreams. She had been different when he had first started, bold and daring as with every one of her endeavors. It was so much so, that when he lowered her onto the crew bunk in her apartment, it was _he_ that felt like the young virgin giving himself to the beautiful coed who he had pined over as being out of his league.

He slid down onto the floor, kneeling between her legs as she sat on the small bunk. He had removed her shirt while barely interrupting their kiss. Hooking a crooked finger underneath the strap of her bra, he slid the tiny piece of fabric to rest in the bend of her elbow. She was radiating something, something addictive and overpowering, whether it had to do with her Force sensitivity or her heightened awareness, he couldn't be sure but his senses were overwhelmed by her. The touch of her skin, cool and smooth; the heat of her breath, soft and damp against his cheek and the smell of her, sweet and tangy filling his nostrils and urging him on. All thoughts of the consequences of being with her that had stopped him earlier and plagued him on his long walk to her quarters, shrank away until they were nothing more than a dwarf star struggling for light in the shadow of a supernova. He had to have her, _wanted_ to have her, _needed_ her like this.

His hands lightly ghosted over the fabric of her thin bra and she made a noise at the back of her throat that vibrated down his spine and straight to his groin. He could not recall a time when he didn't want her, he thought. His drive was so primal and unyielding like a newborn child frantically suckling at the air until its needs are magically met, that he was unable to envision a time when it was not there thrumming beneath the surface of his thoughts. It was then, when he began to frantically kiss his way down her body in a vain attempt to satisfy this visceral desire, when in an instant he had removed her bra and exposed her breasts to his mouth, dragging his tongue over one of the hardened nipples he found there, that she had first faltered. She grabbed the back of his head, threading her fingers through his short hair as if she were falling and he were her only means of gaining purchase. The sound she made then, a sound of pleasant surprise, was to his ear an interesting mixture of intense pleasure and veiled astonishment.

He drew back, reigning in his impatience for her as he kissed his way back up along her neck. When he reached her ear, he whispered, "Are you alright?"

"I've never done this before."

She said it quickly, not as if embarrassed but as if it were a fact he needed to know quickly, like one must be told about catastrophic consequences that could occur before performing the next step of some procedure, like knowing that you have to disengage the hyperdrive before you fire up the sublight engines. It had not been news to him, he had suspected as much for a long time. Yet her admission at that exact moment hit him solidly. He had dismissed the consequences of what this meant to everyone else lest they should be discovered, but had he underestimated the even more personal implications of what this might mean to her? "You want me to stop?" He asked, the ache in his loins tightening in stark contradiction to his moral compass.

"Not what I was trying to convey," she replied with some amusement while moving to lie down on her bed and dragging him along to lay on top of her.

He smiled down at her, thought about coming out of hyperdrive and pulling the lever back for the sublight engines. He pushed himself up on his arms. Her expression remained bemused as if she realized the physical torture he would've had to endure had she answered differently. His hips were now cradled between her legs and his body, regardless of the layers of fabric separting them, reacted violently to the familiar pose and his desire swelled and thrummed painfully with a rapid cadence that matched the swift, dogged beat of his heart. She watched him, her eyes like a black hole along a hyperspace lane, threatening to pull him in until he disappeared into their oblivion. Not for the first time in her presence, he sensed a danger, as if he were getting more than he bargained for. But more was almost always better, he thought, and with her it seemed he could never get enough. She raised her hand up to touch the side of his face, drawing him out of his thoughts. He turned his head and kissed her palm.

"What are you thinking?" She asked.

He trained his eyes on her; there were still times when he wondered just how much she could 'read' from him. "That it's been a helluva long time since my first," he replied.

"Liar," she said with a smile.

"_No_," he teased. "From what I can remember it _was _a long time ago."

"You know what I mean." She moved her body beneath him as she said it, pressing herself into him and flaring the pain into his pelvic muscles and down his thighs. Her eyes widened at the contact and she took in a small breath as she relaxed her hips back down into the thin mattress beneath them.

"Yeah, I do," he whispered before bending down to kiss her.

When he made his way back down her body again, she was more prepared for it. He hadn't been lying, it had been a long time since his first and still a long time since he was somebody else's first. But other than her tiny hesitation and admission earlier, she did not act as if it was her first time. Not only that, but it didn't feel as if it was their first time together. It was, he thought, how it would be if he flew another ship the same make and model as his beloved _Falcon. _It would be familiar yet - with all the subtle changes and idiosyncracies that time and experience had lent it - vastly different. He couldn't explain it any more than that. At that moment, he didn't care to.

He moved down to kneel at the foot of the small bed, shimmying her pants and panties off of her legs and throwing them aside. He looked down at her, bared to him as she was, his eyes traveling the length of her body and ending up meeting her awaiting gaze. He felt as if he had conquered something inside of himself that now allowed him to have her like this. It was not, as it sometimes was, a feeling as if he had captured her but that he had done something with his life, some accomplishment or decision, that had led him here and made him deserving of this woman. It made him wonder just exactly what it might've been so that he could be sure to replicate it...repeatedly.

She placed her foot on his chest and pushed gently. "Don't look so smug," she said, her face cracking open with a playful smile.

He liked this side of her, the bewitching girl who could read him so well. It made him less concernced with his thoughts, as if he would not have to give voice to so many of them and so should not worry so much about them. "Don't look so eager," he shot back to her with an amused grin of his own as he grabbed her by the ankle and kissed the ball of her foot.

"_Eager?_" She laughed the word while pulling her leg free. "In your dreams," she said wickedly. "Who do you think I am-"

She stopped and he could tell that she had tripped over a stray thought, something that she had not bargained into the equation. He looked at her, his smile fading into a questioning stare.

She placed her foot back on his chest deliberately. He felt quite certain that he wasn't going anywhere that she didn't want him to go. Her impish smile had vanished. "Your girlfriend was onboard with the committee," she said, sounding as if she were dispensing judgement over the fact.

"_Ex_, yes," he replied carefully. This was not somewhere he thought they would go either.

"She wanted you."

He wasn't quite sure, but he felt as if she were guessing. He swallowed, feeling certain that it wouldn't be prudent to lie. "Yes."

She moved quickly, dropping her leg and coming up to kneel in front of him. Placing her arms around his neck, she looked up at him. "What did you do?"

_This_, he thought, was something that she somehow already knew and in the back of his mind he understood what she was doing. He drew a breath. "Nothing."

"And why was that?" She asked smiling. When he moved to open his mouth she kissed him soundly. The conversation, Han thought, had served two purposes for her. She had delayed what was about to happen, slyly betraying her hesitance, while at the same time establishing control and demonstrating how well she knew him and they each other. The silent confession underscored his unadmitted feelings for her without him having to utter one single word. He had never encountered anyone like her in his entire life. He was glad that only one of her existed, for he could not handle any more that that.

He sat back on his heels and she moved to sit on his lap, her legs straddling him. The ache of his desire was now such that he hardly noticed it any longer as one grows accustomed to intense pain after prolonged exposure to it. However, he knew - as he knew his own name - that if this were not their first time and if she were perhaps a bit bolder, should she slide her hands down to touch him, he very well just might explode. The better for him if he were to remain in control, he thought. In her hands he could easily collapse into an incoherent puddle and, not only would that be embarrassing for him, he thought sure that she would derive great pleasure in having done it. And that kind of pleasure was not the kind he aimed to give her today.

She seemed, both thankfully and maddeningly, to be in no hurry at all as she kissed him. While her hands skimmed the outline of his chest and arms, she expertly relieved him of his jacket and shirt. Once naked from the waist up, her hands glazed over the planes of his chest and rounded the tight muscles of his biceps as she showed no further inclination to travel southward and be a party to his undoing. If only she knew, he was sure that she would've taken full advantage of him. Instead, gripping his arms, she pressed herself against him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and releasing an achingly provocative whimper from the back of her throat. It was all an absolutely perfect contradiction of the young, inexperienced girl she actually was and the sensual woman she was allowing herself to become. Han knew he could only be this lucky once. He knew that after this encounter, should she have him again in such a vulnerable state, she would most certainly capitalize on it. Something also told him that he might not mind it at all by then.

He returned her kisses, tasting her and drawing her to him allowing her the time it took for her to once again relinquish control. Through the stretch of his kiss, over the short distance his hands traveled from the tops of her shoulders to the curve of her ass, it felt like more than an eternity had passed before he finally had her on her back again.

When he brought her to climax with his head tucked down between her legs, he thought that he felt the entire ship shudder with the convulsion of her muscles. As he climbed back up her body to her awaiting kisses, he wasn't sure who looked more smug then, him or her. After exercising so much patience and control, Han was a bit ashamed that his pants had barely made it off of his hips before he anxiously pushed himself forward to enter her. While barely his tip breached her opening his eyes slid back into his head and a sheen of persipiration bursted forth from his every pore. The muscles in his arms trembled underneath the weight of his body as if exhausted from hours of hard labor. She had her legs wrapped around him, her fingernails digging into his quivering biceps and her head thrown back against the pillow. His entrance was slow and labored (excruciating) and had this been his first time, he probably would've lost it before he finally managed to sink into her fully. Like an inexperienced boy, he felt unable to move once inside of her; not, however, because he was unsure of _how_ to proceed but that he was unsure if he _could_ proceed.

He dipped his head down to rest his cheek against hers, the slick sweat on their skin married together as if in empathy for the other. The pressure he was experiencing, from her fingernails digging into his skin, to her body squeezing his entire length, manifested itself as a tightening death-grip on his heart that made his chest hurt. He released a breath, moist and hot against his face as it bounced off of the skin of her shoulder. She made a sound, another whimper but less sharp this time as she lifted her head and pressed her forehead against his chest. He tested the movement of his hips in slow, short strokes and after several heartbeats she lowered her head back down again and released a ragged breath that sounded encouragingly erotic. Her fierce grip released the tension on his arms. He felt her entire body relax, stretching and working to accommodate him as she ran her hands down to hold him at the wrists.

When all he had to focus on was the underside of her chin and her neck he had no trouble at all easing into a gentle, deliberate pace. It was dizzyingly pleasurable and with each thrust, over every moan and sigh from her, he was amazed at his capacity to resist his release for that much longer. But then, when she finally lifted her head back up to look at him, her wide brown eyes slowly studying him, he nearly lost it, his face peppering with perspiration and his jaw tightening determinedly as he stilled his hips and fought to keep the tenuous grip on his restraint. By the look on her face, he could tell that she was fascinated by the effect she was having on him. It was amazing to him that even in her most vulnerable moments she recognized and enjoyed the fact that she still exercised such magnificent power. Leaning forward, he kissed her; remaining idle for the few beats of her heart that it took him to regain control.

Lifting himself back up on straightened arms, he looked down at her. She watched him; her chest, neck and face flushed with color as she dropped her legs down, pressing her heels into the mattress and tilting her hips toward him. His body shuddered in response to the shift in their connection and he dropped down onto his elbows as he began to move within her once again. She stretched her arms up over her head, pressing her hands against the wall and aiding him with this new angle of entry. Her eyes widened and he could tell that she was deriving just as much pleasure from it as he. Her lips parted in a delightful oval shape allowing her inarticulate cries and moans to escape unfettered. He knew that she was close, could tell that she was concentrating on reaching another climax as he began slamming into her, his release so imminent that he began to helplessly and regretfully surrender to it; his body and his instincts taking over as his mind begrudgingly let go.

He lowered himself closer to her, their cheeks pressing against one another yet again. It was an act in futility as he attempted to hang on for as long as possible, burying himself inside of her as his hips jerked forward and he spilled himself inside of her with several erratic thrusts. There was a sound that escaped him; something that was a mixture between pain, pleasure and some form of deliverance which he cut off by pressing his opened mouth against her shoulder and remained there as his body shook with the aftershocks of his release. Her skin tasted salty and her body felt impossibly tiny beneath him as he pressed himself into her one last time, impossibly deeper, his limbs heavy and his entire being spent with exhaustion. She ran her hands through his dampened hair and massaged the back of his neck, comforting him through his descent, but it was a fall from such an unimaginable height that he felt as if he would never feel the ground below him again.

* * *

><p>When they were done, they lay beside each other in her bunk, he on his back and she draped across the side of him. Going on the sheer dimensions of the small bed, it was something that he didn't think would be possible on the onset of this endeavor. He would definitely have to get her to his room the next time they decided to do this, he thought logistically. It was the first idle thought he had had since leaving that dining hall earlier. He hugged her closer to him, he was not ready to <em>think<em> about anything yet.

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest, propping it up on her fisted hand so she could look him in the eye. "I don't ever want this moment, right here, to end."

He wasn't sure if it was the moment she wanted to last forever or the future that she didn't want to face. As he studied her expression, he found that it was probably both. He couldn't help but to sadly agree. "I know," he said, taking his finger and pushing a lock of hair out of her face.

She turned and rested her cheek against his chest. He watched as her head rose and fell to the rhythm of his breathing. He could not see her expression but he could imagine it. His hand twirled the piece of her hair between its fingers. His groin twitched with anticipation, he wanted to be inside of her again, had wanted it as soon as he had slid out of her just moments ago. It was the nearness that he craved more than the sexual act. The feeling of having nothing between them again, where words and unvoiced thoughts were replaced with the rhthym of their hips and the heated pants of their whimpers and sighs. It ate at him like a mad addiction. He felt as if he were trying to escape or evade something, but he couldn't figure out what.

"Whatever happens out there, it has nothing to do with us, in here," she said. She lifted her head, looking at him. "It's important to me that you know that."

The thought of anything jeopardizing what he now held in his arms as most cherished, curdled his insides with its raw heat. Suddenly things became more clear. "They're going after Capital City," he stated evenly, his chest filling with the pressure of conviction.

Leia shook her head for a moment as if she wanted to say something but then her expression softened and she instead nodded her head in apparent affirmation.

"I wouldn't ask this of you, if I wasn't totally sure," he clarified, not content with her silent acceptance. "It's important to _me_ that you know that."

She drew her body up onto his chest, resting on her forearms as she looked down on him. He held his breath, waiting for her response. Her lips, still swollen from his kisses, opened slightly as if allowing some unspoken confession to escape into the silence between them. She studied him then, as if gauging his reaction to whatever it was she had not said, as if he should've heard and understood it anyway. Somehow he did. Then she dipped her head down to hover over his and the only real, concrete answer he got from her was a slow, deep and deliberate kiss.


	68. Chapter 68

A/N: Many, many, many thanks to my beta readers: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter.

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny<em>…

_Naboo_

The massive space station blotted the darkness of Naboo's outer atmosphere as if someone had hung it like a bright, shiny new ornament in its universe. A gift of unknown origin bringing with it the anxious anticipation of what it might contain. Padme Skywalker, like most residents, did her best to resist looking up at it. It accomplished nothing to stop and stare. There was no benefit to trying to guess its purpose or intent. They could only react.

There was a time when her reactions would've been fundamental to the peoples of her world. A time when she had been a senator and a time she had been queen. Now she was just another inhabitant, a mother but not one that had to worry about her children, at least not as if they were here with her seeking her protection and guidance. No, they were out there, she thought, probably worried about protecting her. There wasn't time to think about that either.

It wasn't in her nature to sit idly by and do nothing. Even as she had no role in her government any longer, and even as the bustling activity of the meager Naboo military forces stormed by over her head and outside the gates of her estate without so much as a holocomm call or a nod from her. She felt that she could still do _something_. Her husband was not there, although he would reach out to her intermittently. She was not Force sensitive but over the years she and her husband had developed a bond that was strong enough to pulsate through her like the beat of a drum. She could tell that he was busy, excited about something, seemingly oblivious to her plight. She had released her servants and housemaids to take care of their own families and as the last of them left the grounds, so had she.

Years as a government servant made it simple for her to decide where she might be needed most. The children's faces at the hospital made it easy for her to forget to look out a window and stare into the sky. Each happy face and toothless grin took her further away from the reality of what might be happening. Here she was just a pretty lady that had come for no reason at all to tell the sick children a story down in the basement of the hospital. Children's naive laughter flitted through the air and she brushed back comforting thoughts to her husband keeping him happily oblivious and to her children, she sent reassurances to them of her strength. She did not want them to worry. A small boy had climbed into her lap and she kissed his head; his hair was the color of Luke's and she stroked it reverently. Her voice was light as she began to read them their story.

* * *

><p>The Death Star <em>(orbiting Naboo)<em>

"You sure about this Grand Moff?" Officer Motti, the head of Naval Operations for the Death Star, was saying. "The longer we sit here, the more we are vulnerable."

"Vulnerable to what?" Tarkin replied. "The whole idea was to draw their entire fleet here, wasn't it?" The Grand Moff looked out the expansive viewport to the tranquil world of Naboo below. "Besides, we're supposed to wait for the mark from Grand Admiral Thrawn before we begin. Whatever it is he has planned, relies heavily on us being in the system."

"The capabilities of this space station have not fully been tested and direct space battles were not intended by the engineering design," Motti stated. "We are meant to quickly and efficiently destroy or disable a planet, not take pot shots from an entire fleet."

"The Republic fleet's arrival is part of the timeline, too. I'm certain that as soon as they arrive, we'll receive our cue from Thrawn. Regardless, you'll do well not to question the capabilities of this space station."

"As you say, sir," Motti replied.

* * *

><p>The Eclipse <em>(Deep Space)<em>

Han had to slink out of her apartment before the ship's daybreak. It was the only part of the evening that she found uncomfortable and regrettable although she realized that it was also unavoidable. When she found herself alone, she lay in her bunk and relived every second of the hours that they had spent together. This was a time she would never forget, she mused, the thought quickly morphing from sheer bliss to a sobering reality. Somehow, along with everything else that last night meant to her, it held with it some fading glimpse of a world that was slipping through their fingers. The days and decisions that loomed ahead of them would forever change the landscape of their lives. She longed for time to stand still if only to allow her to enjoy this newfound happiness for a little while longer.

She turned to lie on her side, her body curled protectively within itself. Happiness was exactly what she had found last night, she decided; there was no simpler or more appropriate way to describe it. She had toyed with the revelation before, but it had never been more clear to her than it was now. The most important aspects of their daylight friendship, the valued advice, the sober outlook and frank conversations, were now perfectly balanced with the joy they had freed within each other last night. She knew that the physical and intellectual sides of their relationship completed each other, and now it seemed that neither one could exist without the other. All the time that had passed since that first day she had met him had served its proverbial purpose. In his arms she felt at once young and mature, giddy and solemn, hopeful and pragmatic: complete. She saw the same in him and knew that they both accepted it all as a culmination of their journey – a transformation of themselves.

She unfurled her limbs and moved to lie on her back. This was the other half of what the Jedi were missing, she thought eagerly. _This_ was the portion of life that her father had tried to teach to her and Luke. The confident, strategizing, soberly determined person that she was as a soldier and a Jedi, was only half of the person that she could be. Everything, every doctrine, experience and belief looked different through the eyes of the woman that Han had awakened inside of her. The passion of her father's teaching had never been as clear as it was in that moment. To achieve genuine compassion for all living things, one had to embrace all aspects of life itself. The Jedi were denying a part of themselves and as such destroying what could be their greatest strength of purpose. For purpose not tempered by compassion, ran the risk of becoming dispassionate indifference.

Her thoughts went to her father. He did not _feel_ the same to her anymore, not since the time that he had appeared to her in the training room. Just as she was enjoying this newfound sensation of completeness, it was a similar feeling of wholeness that she sensed from him. Luke had described it as duplicity, as if their father were in more than one place at once – as if he were divided. But to her it only felt as if he were everywhere, something that seemed quite normal and perfectly reasonable when describing the Force and one of its strongest beings. The more she delved into this new awareness the more she felt as if she were finally, fully comprehending the immensity of the Force.

She felt that she and her father were on the same journey just perhaps, as it should be, that he was a few steps ahead of her. She, opening herself up to an emotional and physical love for another and for herself and he, opening himself up to the galaxy as a whole; as if surrendering his very soul to and for a greater purpose. Maybe it was the next sensible step, she thought, following the path that he had set out for her. It felt as though it was. Regardless of where it took her, she felt compelled to follow him.

She thought back, as she had not for a long time, to the words of that message that had started this all. _"...may be hard to believe and you could never imagine yourself giving up any of your dreams and aspirations, whatever they may be now, for any one man. But you will. And it will be the most fantastic experience you'll ever know. Trust me."_ That woman, that person who had been her had warned her of a stubbornness and disbelief specifically surrounding these feelings she was now cautiously addressing. How easy it was for her to picture a life dedicated solely to the happiness of others and not herself? Did she harbor such a great propensity to selflessness? It was certainly the way of the Jedi as she had been taught. Yet, in another life she had forgone it all for one man, traveled through time for a greater purpose and had risked it all for love.

She shut her eyes.

For a long moment she considered the self denial of the Jedi contrasted sharply against the self indulgence of human nature. Somewhere between the two, she decided, there must be a balance. Had her former self been able to achieve it? Was her father reaching that balance now? These were the questions that she would spend her time contemplating. These where the things that would drive her every move now, her every decision. The Force was a completeness that she had never before imagined, a serenity that she only now dared to dream of, a balance that was no longer a mystery but a promise, waiting to be discovered and attained.


	69. Chapter 69

_It is Your Destiny…_

The Eclipse_ (arriving in Naboo's system)_

The entire squadron was gathered in the hangar bay as the _Eclipse_ prepared to exit hyperspace right outside of Naboo's system. Luke stared across the room at his sister and felt as if he were looking upon a stranger. He hadn't talked to her during the ongoing meetings that had filled up their day. Neither one of them had been selected as one of the two Jedi that would execute the rescue of Arch from the Empire's super weapon while it hovered over their home planet. Their weeks together onboard the _Eclipse_ had not nurtured their sibling bond as much as it had tested it greatly. Since her collapse they had worked on rebuilding that relationship, but it had been a slow progression not back to where they had been but toward a something new and nebulous. It seemed to Luke that his life had become a jumbled puzzle, and he could barely keep the pieces in front of him, much less put them together into some cohesive picture.

He briefly shut his eyes and reached out. While they had been sequestered out in deep space or traveling through hyperspace, sensing someone – especially a Force blind person such as his mother - through the Force had been sketchy at best. The closer one was to someone, both emotionally and physically, the easier it was to reach out to them, sometimes over great distances. The pulsating presence of both his mother and his father burst through Luke's Force bond as soon as he felt the ship reverting into realspace. It nearly threw Luke back like a physical blow. He watched as his sister standing across the hangar bay from him, most certainly experienced the same. She betrayed nothing with her physical features, but emotionally she reached out to him as she hadn't done in a long time, almost fumbling to grab hold of him like someone stumbling for their footing. Then, almost as quickly as it had happened, she drew back.

Luke concentrated on his parents. His father, the stronger pulsating vibration of the two, still did not feel quite right. Whether his transformation was for the better or worse, Luke could not tell. In what little conversation he had with his sister about it, she felt intrigued by and comfortable with the apparent change. Luke envied her outlook, it seemed much more palatable than his, yet he could not force himself to emulate her completely. He was trying to curb his judgments and to open his mind to alternative methods of thinking, but it did not come easily to him. Obi Wan Kenobi's warnings prior to his death still haunted him and clouded his thoughts. It would be the end of everything if his father fell. He wondered if Leia had forgotten that and at times wished he could shake her by her shoulders and snap her out of whatever fog she appeared to be lost in. But he didn't.

He sighed. What Luke felt from his father was different; different than all of his Jedi teachings had taught him about how to use the Force and what it was supposed to feel like, even what little he knew of the Dark Side. It was as if his father had discovered a new way to channel the Force, like finding a new way to communicate your thoughts besides speaking. This was disconcerting, confusing to Luke. Just because something was different, did not mean that it was of the Dark Side. It would not do him any good to run scared from ghosts. But the very real fear of his father falling and all of the consequences that would go along with that was at the forefront of Luke's mind, it could not be helped. But, at the same time, it sat as some far off impossibility for his sister. Only time would prove who was right. But Luke could not sit idly by and let time decide. Could he? No, he decided as he began to make his way across the hangar bay toward Leia, determined to talk to her now.

That something had happened to his sister was clearly evident to him. It was strange the way the Force worked, even stranger the way she could manipulate it to work around her. He couldn't decipher exactly what she had decided or done, but only that she had done or decided something. It was a predicament he had grown accustomed to when dealing with her. She was not one that could be read easily. All throughout their childhood he would be faced with this sort of ambiguity regarding her state of mind. Only, what had changed now, was that he was no longer able to coax the truth out of her with probing conversations or wild guesses; chasing it out of her sometimes both literally and figuratively. They were no longer children and they were also no longer that close but things had never before been so important. He was facing a frustrating dilemna. He did not have time to tread softly, he could not be sure how much time he had.

* * *

><p>She had just finished speaking to Pruitt and Timmons, the two Jedi that would be going on the rescue mission. Luke nodded at each of them and then turned to his sister as they departed. For a moment neither one of them said anything. Leia's eyes were tracking Pruitt and Timmons as they walked away. Luke's gaze was trained on his sister. She was an enigma to him, like the puzzle that was his life, his sister was also not so easily solved. In one moment she was the strongest and wisest person he knew and then in the next, a petulant child with whimsical thoughts and no concern for consequences. He felt compelled to remind her of her place, but just as certain that she needed no reminding. He envied her sometimes, almost all of the time. She was carefree while he was mired down with worry and confusion, she was determined and steadfast while he remained unsure and filled with trepidation. She would run wild if he were not there to pull on her reins, but he would get nowhere if she were not dragging him along behind her.<p>

When she turned her head to face him, it was the first acknowledgment she had made of his presence, although he knew that she was fully aware that he had been there. "Are you alright?" It had not been the first thing he had planned to say to her, but, he realized as he said the words, that it was the only thing at the forefront of his mind. Regardless of all the uncertainty and differing opinions, at the foundation of their relationship there lied a deep and mutual concern.

"Yes," she said tersely, but Luke knew it to be an automatic response.

He held her gaze, waited for the real answer that he knew would eventually come. Leia could not easily be pushed, but her impatience often proved the better of her.

She blew out a breath, her shoulders relaxing. "Yes, I am," she added, still rather pointedly. "Don't," she stopped, seemed to be reconsidering her words and mentally smoothing them over. "Don't worry about me," she said softly.

There was no malice in her words, only a firm reassurance. Luke realized that this was not the time to ponder on their differences. He was ashamed that she had to, even if subtly, remind him of that. "Right," he replied. It would do no good to highlight what he saw as faults in her now, it would only serve to separate them. If he were to play this smart, he would have to find a way to unite them, no matter how far apart that might appear to be at the moment.

"Did you feel it, too?" Leia asked into his silence. He knew what she was referring to. They still had no need to verbalize core thoughts. They had not lost their twin speak.

"Yes," Luke answered, knowing that she was referring to their father's presence. "It's the same as he's been for awhile now. Not quite whole. But at least he's there."

"Mother doesn't seem worried."

"She never does."

"Luke," Leia replied quickly. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"It'll be alright," he said, even though he wasn't entirely convinced of it. He was worried about other matters. The impending battle was but a minor detour in his path. But she was right to be worried. He felt himself grounded into the moment, keening his thoughts onto what what was about to happen. "Whatever it is they have planned, we'll be ready for it," he told her. "The fleet will be here and we'll be protecting Coruscant." His mind quickly ran through the battle plans. Surprisingly he felt more certain than ever that Han Solo's guess would prove to be right. He felt ashamed that he had not given it that much thought before. Was he so busy looking ahead that he was not paying attention to the immediate matters before him? Was that his job in all of this? Leia was looking at him, she was waiting for him to speak. He sighed once again. "Look, I'll be honest, I had my doubts about Han's plan but now that it's playing out I'm thinking he was right. We'll be there and they'll be here. It'll all work out."

She nodded gravely and Luke could tell that she was still not entirely convinced or worse yet, that her bad feeling perhaps had nothing to do with this mission. Why could he never understand her! They turned their attention to the far side of the hangar bay. Pruitt and Timmons were donning their helmets and climbing into their fighters. The pair would make the quick hyperspace jump into Naboo and, via the Jedi battle meld, signal Arch to detach and follow them to Coruscant. If all went as planned, the trio would leave Naboo with the Empire being none the wiser. The _Eclipse_ would lie and wait for their all clear before jumping over to the Galactic Capital themselves. After that, Han's theory would be officially put to the test. There was nothing their worry could now, the plan was already in motion.

"Leia?" Luke asked; he had turned to look at her while she was still watching the departing Jedi.

"Yes?" She said, turning to look at him.

"Aren't you scared that Father could be falling to the Dark Side?"

"Why are you asking me that now?" She seemed perturbed with him and it only served to confirm his theory that she was not keeping a watchful eye on the distant future.

"For one, I don't want us to lose sight of the task that Obi Wan left for us." Luke said, trying not to sound as if that were the only thing he worried about. "But mostly, I'm just trying to understand you." She eyed him cautiously as if he had just threatened her with bodily harm. Was it that she did not want to be understood? His concern grew and he refused to allow her to derail him.

"I'm not that hard to understand," she returned.

"Alright," he answered calmly. "Just humor me then and answer the question."

She squared her shoulders. "Alright then, no, I don't think Father is falling to the Dark Side. In fact, now that you mention it, I wonder about the Jedi's irrational fear of the Dark Side altogether."

"_Irrational?_" Luke squealed the word like a schoolboy just finding his man's voice.

Leia, who would usually find amusement in such a display, pressed on unperturbed. "The Jedi teach the Light but leave us ignorant about the Dark, only relying on our fear of it to protect us from it. It's a fallacy. The Dark Side to me is like the Unknown Regions, something that is an inherent part of the Force as the edge of the star map is still part of the universe." She stopped, but when Luke said nothing, she continued, "Maybe I just can't explain it. I guess I don't even see the Force as so divided, not Light or Dark but just all as…_potential? _The potential for good or the potential for bad, all beings have that don't they? Isn't a Sith just a Jedi that has decided to nurture the anger and hate inside of him instead of the joy and love? Like any being has the capacity to become a murderer? Does every Jedi have the capacity to become Sith? We've been taught as much, haven't we?"

He narrowed his eyes at her as a shiver ran down his body. "Since when have you thought this? I haven't heard you talk this way before."

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just thinking out loud, I guess. I've been...expanding my understanding of the Force."

He shook his head. "I don't like it." It wasn't a lie. Just because he felt it made sense didn't mean that it had to be right. Something about it still felt wrong.

"People didn't like those that first claimed that fire could be created and controlled or that beings could travel through space."

Luke chose his response carefully. "When taken for granted, both space travel and fire can be very dangerous."

"And if the galaxy were filled with people like you, we would all be trapped in single worlds like silos, oblivious of our alien neighbors and scared to death at the thought of their existence. Fearing them as one does the unknown."

"And what would a galaxy filled with people like you be like?"

She smiled, he was not the only one that recognized the balance between them. "Probably just as horrific but in a different way."

He let a moment pass between them where they seemed to accept the way that the complimented each other, comfortable in the fact that it had always been so and confident that it would always remain that way. They both watched as Pruitt and Timmons' X-wings exited the hangar bay and disappeared into the vast darkness beyond the viewport. Luke had found much to think about in Leia's words and he tucked that away for later. He nodded acceptingly, respectfully at his sister as they began to file out of the hangar bay with the rest of the squad. The upcoming hours would prove tedious and mundane, a perfect time for contemplations. But Luke knew, as they all did, that the waiting would soon give way to action and the time for thinking would be over.


	70. Chapter 70

_It is Your Destiny…_

The Eclipse _(Deep Space)_

Han made his way towards his quarters. He had spent the last several hours going over scenarios and strategies with Tonsk. There were certain protocols they had to consider, resistance that they had to be prepared for. Coruscant would not be expecting them and their local military forces could pose a problem to the hidden fighters of their squad. All of their discreet planning being foiled by friendly fire would be highly inconvenient. After careful research and discussion, they had done their best to anticipate and mitigate those possibilities.

He took the lifts to his apartment, his footsteps heavy with exhaustion. He thought of Leia. They had not spoken or made plans to see each other that evening. Luke had spoken to him briefly and had indicated that their father and mother appeared unworried yet prepared. He was sure that Leia must be feeling the stress of the situation growing more profound and although he couldn't claim to understand how their Force senses worked, he knew that this close proximity to her parents and family bore down on her as an added burden. It bore down on him as well.

When he approached his room he noticed his droid, Tee-One-Nine, standing slouched and lifeless outside of his door. His hand went reflexively to his hip, if he had been on a backwater planet in some seedy hotel, he would've been reaching for his blaster. But he didn't wear a holster onboard his ship and he didn't feel it necessary (yet) to unsheathe his holdout blaster, so he calmly and coolly placed his hand on his comlink and rested it there. He moved closer as he let his finger hover over the red alert button just in case.

He opened the door of his apartment, leaving Tee-Nineteen powered down as he had found her. Several things hit him at once when he entered his room: the lights of his apartment on and not as he had left them, the bag slung across the back of one of his dining chairs and the figure of a person draped across his sofa. Of course, he smiled as he relaxed his trigger finger; it was Leia. He let the door cycle closed behind him as he entered the room. Setting his datapad down on the small entry table, he began to loosen the top buttons of his uniform as he studied the sight in front of him.

She was fully dressed in her standard Republic military-issued clothes and his eyes traveled over her body, from the tips of her boots to the crown of braids around her head. It was apparent that she had been waiting for him and had fallen asleep. Some part of him, he realized, expected to find her here. He had always been the person she came to for comfort and reassurance even before last night, and now it would be doubly so. It was the same for him.

He took a deep breath. In all honesty, he wasn't certain if he was up to the task of reassuring her; after all he was feeling rather nervous and unsure himself. It was a big gamble that he was taking with this mission, and its success or failure would be measured in lives. His crew had taken a huge step in their support of him, but that was all they were doing – supporting him. In the end all of the credit would go to him and his crew but the blame, the mark of failure if there was to be any, would go solely to him. That was how it worked; he knew that. And that responsibility had begun to weigh more and more heavily upon him.

His elation at finally gaining the squad's trust had been short-lived. It had very quickly transformed from triumph to extreme caution and concern. But it had been there and it had been great when it happened. He looked down at Leia now. She had been a part of that exciting time, that exultation and her lying here now upon his sofa was proof of its existence. He had been unable to separate the victory with his team from his surrender to his feelings for her. It had been the ultimate celebration of two very long-awaited achievements. Both had been hard-earned, one had been bestowed upon him by his crew, the other was given to him by the woman who had broken into his apartment in much the same way she'd broken into his life.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He did not regret what they had done, but he now wondered if it had been the right thing to do. It was yet another responsibility he had inadvertently assumed, the responsibility of trying to both bear their relationship as a secret and nourish its fragile existence at the same time. Her face, now wearing the unguarded expression of sleep, belied the innocent faith she had now entrusted him with. Never before had such a simple undertaking seemed so monumental and profound.

He shrugged his jacket off, draped it across the back of a chair and walked closer to her. She stirred, her body stretching for one quick moment before she seemed to remember where she was and opened her eyes.

"Hey," she said immediately upon finding him there, towering over her; not a hint of fear or surprise in her expression.

"Hey," he replied as he leaned against the arm of the sofa and bent his body down toward hers. When he looked into her large brown eyes, rich and dangerous in their depth, all of those worries, all of the pressure and weight of the pending events were scooped up out of him like a bucket in a well leaving only a comfortable calmness in its place.

She lifted her head, tilted her face up as if to accept a kiss from him. He pressed his lips to her forehead as she shut her eyes. Her skin was warm and soft against his lips and he lingered there for a long moment, not wanting to have it end. When he pulled away, she said, "Your droid didn't want to let me in."

"I'll have a talk with her," he whispered as he brushed a few hairs off of her forehead. She smiled up at him, seemed to find the thought of him having _that_ conversation with his droid to be greatly amusing. He smiled back at her. "I'm sorry I'm so late," he said, although they hadn't made any plans and she wasn't even supposed to be there waiting for him, it just somehow felt right that she had been.

"How long do we have?" She asked, brushing off his apology.

Pruitt and Timmons would have to wait for Naboo's nightfall. "I have a few hours before I should get back to the bridge."

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes," he replied quickly, but they both seemed to know that he wasn't talking about food.

Her mouth fell open slightly and her eyes narrowed. He straightened his posture, pulling his body away from her as if from a physical force. She grabbed the front of his shirt stopping him, seeming to read and understand the look and thoughts that had come over him. Had it only been yesterday that they had first slept with one another? Giving it no further thought he dropped his head back down to hers and kissed her deeply, his hand wrapping around her face and neck as if palming a delicate artifact. She twisted her body on the cushions of the sofa and came to kneel on it, her arms wrapping around his shoulders possessively.

"I missed you," she whispered between kisses, as if sharing the darkest of confessions.

He did not want to tell her how exhausting he had found it, longing to think about her but forcing his mind clear of it. Wanting to talk to her, but nursing the irrational fear that he was somehow not allowed to any longer. Watching as every other man on the ship was able to approach her with ease, look at her without suspicion and speak about her without accusation of ulterior motives. He had felt transparent, as if one wrong look from him would reveal every _right _thing that had happened between them. But that had all been outside, with the others. They had both been different people, the same as always, but different than they were in here, now, together where all of that seemed to somehow just fall away.

He had felt it the night before, although he had been unable to name it. It was as if the worries of the galaxy were unable to permeate their time together. As if the circle of each other's arms was an impenetrable fortress against the ills of the outer worlds whatever they might be. It was not an act of delusional denial on either of their parts, but a conscious choice. They did not deny its existence but accepted the fact that trouble merely stood waiting, much like Tee-One-Nine, patiently and lifelessly waiting for them to return to it on their own terms. He pulled back from her, her arms remained draped around his neck. They did not say anything as he studied the warm pools of her eyes, as he smiled at her knowingly and trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

He took her again right there on that sofa in his living room, like an anxious schoolboy that cannot afford the luxury of time or the patience that it would take to relocate to more appropriate surroundings. She opened herself up to him, wholly, unabashedly as she had done the night before, their bodies fitting together easily, revisiting recently discovered territory while exploring new terrain. He held her close to him, ingesting her like a drug he could no longer resist, swimming in the drunkenness that was the feel of her skin, the tremble of her body and the sound of her voice. Then, he carried her to his bed, her arms wrapped around him tightly, a schoolgirl smile on her lips, and he claimed her over and over again as if he could somehow pay down the debt of the lonely nights and tortured dreams of the year behind him.

* * *

><p>Sometime later, when he opened his eyes after an exhaustive breath, he tried to remember how they had wound up back on the sofa.<p>

Leia squirmed against him, tucking herself underneath his arm. "I like this, it reminds me of how it was in my bunk," she said.

She said it as if they had years of sleeping arrangements to compare it to. Han lifted his head to look down at her. Their naked skin stuck to one another and the stray hairs from her loosened braid were damp with sweat and plastered against the sides of her face and down her neck. He kissed the top of her head and asked playfully, "What? Cramped?"

"Pressed against one another," she explained and demonstrated her meaning by snuggling her body even closer to his. "It feels…"

He tightened his arm around her, heard in his mind the word that she had not named. "We can do this in the bed," he said lightly. "I don't need an excuse to keep you close to me."

"You don't mind that I came here?"

He had to think back on how it was that she had arrived. "No," he then replied. "It was on my list of things to address with you."

She propped herself up on an elbow. "'You have a list?' she asked, as, for the briefest of moments, her expression betrayed her. It slipped and showed a look of almost-fear before her customary nonchalant mask slid back into place.

"Yes, nothing to get excited about," he soothed. "Just…things. Like reprogramming the lock and talking to Tee-Nineteen. And discretion," he said, leaning into her for a quick kiss on her forehead as he finished speaking.

Her face and shoulders relaxed. "I thought it might be better to get here before everyone started turning in." She settled back down and laid her head against his chest. "I made sure no one saw me, except Tee-One-Nine, and the lock wasn't a problem."

He held his words for a moment, not sure himself if he wanted to say them. Finally, as casually as possible, he asked, "How much do you think your brother will be able to figure out? I mean, won't he know if you're not in your room?"

"You handle your droid and I'll handle my brother."

The way she said it left no room for argument. The way she said it, led Han had to suspect that her brother already knew. There was an awkward silence that followed her statement. It had Han thinking back to his brief conversation with Luke earlier that day; he could've sworn that his friend hadn't a clue. Was it possible that he could be misreading people so badly? It was something that he usually took great pride in.

"Are you _that _worried about Luke finding out?" She finally asked, her voice light and teasing.

"Nah, I can handle your brother…I think." He stated the last part of his sentence with purposeful hesitation. The man was a Jedi, after all.

"You shouldn't waste your time worrying about Luke," she replied, lifting herself up on straightened arms to look down at him. Her expression was serious, yet he felt as if he should prepare himself for the punch line. "It would be my _father_ that would have me up at night, if I were you."

Han could feel the blood drain from his face as he blanched and the face of her father, her very unhappy father and a blue lightsaber, streaked across his thoughts.

"Forgot about him, did you?" She asked, amused. "I can see why, I mean, he's only arguably the strongest Jedi in the known galaxy." She smiled coyly. "He wouldn't be a patch on you, though, I'm sure."

He allowed her her fun, gave her a moment to soak in the pleasure she seemed to derive from it. "I have always suspected this," he said finally.

"_What?_"

"That someday you'd be the death of me."

The huskiness of her laughter filled the apartment answered only by the sound of Han's growl as he flipped her on her back and pinned her against the cushions.


	71. Chapter 71

_It is Your Destiny_…

_Space, somewhere near Coruscant_

Han watched as a dozen StealthX fighters poured out of the _Eclipse's_ hangar bay. They had rescued Arch without incident and now they waited in the outer atmosphere of the Galactic Capital for Han's hunch to run its course. It had been difficult for Leia to leave her parents and Naboo behind. He had not been with her when he issued the command to retreat, but he had felt it just the same, as if part of her was wrestled free from the other; like she was torn in half. He wondered if this insight came through some Force connection that they now shared, or if it was merely a product of the depth of feeling that he had for her. He had no time to question it.

They had cut the connection between themselves and the Republic military, choosing not to answer the increasingly livid line of questioning that was coming from the likes of Madine, Cracken and Ackbar. But they could still hear the battle reports coming from Naboo, each harried voice feeding the restlessness growing inside of him and his crew. The Jedi Master Tiin stood beside Han, absorbing the unfolding events in his own way. His presence was somehow comforting to Han and he wondered if that was Leia's influence as well. He wondered if he would ever get over this mistrust he had of all things related to the Force. It seemed a little late to ponder on that now.

A blip of an incoming ship caused everyone on the command deck to jump with anticipation. The vessel was much too small to be the superweapon and Han recognized it immediately as one of the three X-wings that had made the hyperspace jump alone. "Welcome back, Arch," Han said as he depressed the intercom on his headset.

"It's good to be back," Arch's voice crackled in response as the other two StealthX's popped into existence in his surrounding vector.

"How is he?" Han asked Timmons. The pair stood on the hangar floor watching as Arch was carted off on a medical gurney. It was only a precautionary measure and Arch had protested greatly, but Han wanted to make sure that everyone in his squad was in top shape before sending them off on this endeavor. And they were running out of precious time.

"He was a little groggy when we got to him," Timmons said. "But that's to be expected coming out of a long trance like that."

Han found it amazing that Jedi could slow down the basic workings and necessities of their bodies for inordinate amounts of time. Arch had remained in his X-wing in that trancelike state while his astromech unit had sent the information and coordinates to the _Eclipse_. It wasn't until he received the gentle nudge of the Jedi meld that Arch had awoken and snuck himself right from under the Imperials' noses. He had assured Han that after a sandwich and a restroom break, he would be ready to fly again. Han hoped that it was true but didn't want to take any chances.

"He's gonna be alright," Timmons said, clapping Han on his shoulder in reassurance.

It was one thing when Leia read his mind and anticipated his needs, but Han still found it disconcerting when the other Jedi on his squad might do it. "I know," he replied with a strained smile. And then, remembering that the Jedi was only trying to help and not offend him, Han added, "Thanks."

* * *

><p>"Alright," Han said, gazing at the blips on his viewscreen that were his entire squad. After a clean bill of health from the medical bay, Arch had quickly rejoined his team as they prepared for the short jump through hyperspace to reach Coruscant. "Let's form up and do this thing," Han continued as he gave the silent signal to begin.<p>

One by one his squad checked in with their call signs and then all together in perfect synchronization, they winked out of existence. Han and the _Eclipse_ would remain in the outer atmosphere, outside of detection from the Empire when and if they arrived. Chewbacca and Jett on the _Millennium Falcon_ had already jumped over to Corsucant. The pair had checked in with Republic security under a false name as a transport vessel suffering with sublight engine trouble. They would be in orbit acting as emergency backup should they be needed.

Han tapped in an encrypted code, one that would signal to the _Falcon_ and to his squad without being detected. It was a very short trip via hyperspace from where they were to Coruscant's atmosphere. It took only a moment for the affirmative blips to come back in response. Everything was in place, now all they had to do was to wait.

Whether as a blessing or curse, they were not made long to wait. It seemed that only mere seconds had passed before Han got, almost simultaneously, the first alarming reports from Naboo that the space station had retreated and an encrypted message from Chewbacca that the superweapon had surfaced in Coruscant's orbit. On a local channel, Han listened as Coruscant's planetary security detail scrambled in response.

His squad was meant to act in the shadows. Their mission would prove to be a success as soon as Han heard some green officer squeal excitedly that the superweapon had imploded seemingly of its own volition. There were several runs that the Jedi had been training diligently to make. Each and every one of them had memorized the potential points of vulnerability that their study of the space station had revealed. It would only take one shot but the longer it took for them to fire it, the more susceptible they would be to being discovered or inadvertently blown from the sky in the crossfire.

* * *

><p>"I know, R-three," Leia replied patiently to her astromech droid. She did not have the relationship with her R3 unit that Luke seemed to share with his R2 model, but each and every time that she boarded her X-wing, R3 instantly became one of her very best friends. And, unlike neglected relatives or forgotten childhood friends, the astromech droid welcomed her back unequivocally and unconditionally each and every time.<p>

The little droid had warned her of the massive threat that loomed ahead of them that was the Empire's superweapon. She did not have the heart to tell him that that was precisely the thing that they were meant to head straight for. On some level the little droid should've already known, she knew, since he carried the schematics and tactical planning for the assault. But droids carried data without emotion; they didn't analyze it for a specific reason, but just to perform the mechanics of analyzing that they had been purposely programmed to do. No, the reasons and the direction would come from her.

She tightened her hands around the steering yoke of her StealthX and drew in a deep breath. The pull of the Jedi battle meld was already rich in the air surrounding her. She let herself succumb to the familiar sensation of it, controlling her labored breathing as her entire body seemed to expand from the presence of her squad within her. It was hard to explain it. In the beginning, back on Coruscant she had spent many conversations with Madine and Han trying to explain how it worked. She could recall, quite clearly, how the men would nod their heads and claim some small bit of understanding. Yet she could also recall knowing, quite certainly, that they couldn't comprehend it at all.

None of that mattered now, she told herself, as she shook off any thoughts other than that of the mission assigned to her. The squad of invisible X-wings flew as if one vessel, one being, with Luke leading as its brain, its eyes and its master. A small few of them had practiced at taking control of the meld, but it had been Luke that had performed the most expertly and efficiently when given the helm. It had been Luke that had been unanimously voted to lead them today.

The tail end of X-wings broke off to form around the superweapon, the command coursing through the entire squad like the synapses closing along the nerve center of one's spinal cord. The signals emitted from Luke much like those that he would send his hands to open a door, or his legs to walk forward. Leia surrendered further into the meld, answering the pull that was his direction of her. With uniformed precision and casual fluidness, she and two other X-wing peeled off in the opposite direction. They were starting their first run.

* * *

><p>Grand Moff Tarkin stood on the command deck of the Imperial Death Star; the pale grey planet of Coruscant dominating the scenery through its transparisteel viewport. The world, which perhaps some millennia ago had been speckled with the greens, blues and oranges of a traditional landscape, had been whitewashed by civilization and endless cities. It was the epicenter of the known galaxy and it was within his grasp like a pearl lying in wait upon its mother's tongue.<p>

"I feel the arrival of the Jedi squadron."

The voice drawled slowly, menacingly and unexpectedly next to the gray-haired Moff. Tarkin jerked his head to the side and glared at the intruder. He turned his head back just as quickly. The sight beside him was not one that he cared to gaze upon too intently. He'd much rather concentrate on the sparkling crown jewel of the Republic. Next to him stood a monstrosity of Thrawn's recruitment. A wide-eyed, slick-skinned, tallow-colored alien with razors for fingernails. And worse yet, he was Force sensitive.

Tarkin fumed inwardly at the alien's words, and more specifically at how easily he had delivered them. "Did you not indicate back on Naboo that Amidala had been appropriately...distressed?"

"I did indicate that precisely and she was. Still they followed."

Tarkin took a step toward the viewport, leaving the alien standing behind him. This was not to be born. Failure would not accompany him on this day. "What of your pet?" Tarkin questioned calmly.

"He is close."

"How long until Thrawn is finished with Naboo?" Tarkin seethed through gritted teeth.

"It is soon now-"

Tarkin felt the abrupt halt of the alien's words and turned around to look at him. The thought of how he had come to a point in his career where his success depended on an inferior creature passed over him like a broad slap against his face. "What?" Tarkin asked angrily. "What is it?"

"They buzz around us like flitnats," the alien stated softly. "Concentrating," he continued, himself in great concentration. And then, opening his wide eyes and looking at Tarkin, said, "Concentrating on a small opening; a port. It will destroy us."

"Nonsense," Tarkin replied sharply in a combination of relief and disgust. Of course an alien would have no idea to the immense capabilities of such complex machinery. He turned to his weapons crew. "Start firing at anything. Satellites, frigates, dustballs, I don't care. Just fill the sky with a laser show."

"Yes, sir," the answer came back in unison.

Tarkin bit his thumbnail as he watched the streaks of red lightning flash across the viewport. Somewhere circling him menacingly was a squad of invisible Jedi. The thought made his skin crawl. If he could not see them, he would disintegrate the air around him and when he was done, as soon as he heard from that other blue-skinned alien of his, then he would disintegrate the Galactic Capital of the cursed Republic. Victory and the spoils of war would be his. He would not lose this day.


	72. Chapter 72

A/N: Thanks to all who take the time to review and Thanks to my beta readers: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter.

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny<em>…

_Over Coruscant_

Luke gritted his teeth in frustration. The volleys of laser fire rained down on his small accompaniment of invisible fighters. Their Jedi reflexes had thus far kept them safe, but the longer they remained in the fray, the better chance that their luck would finally run out. He had split his crew into two teams both making precise strafing runs along the trenches of the superweapon aiming for the maddeningly small exhaust port that would provide the cataclysmic chain reaction required to take down the small metal moon of destruction and mayhem. The local Coruscant fleet had all but retreated once the laser show had commenced and now they flew around busily but at great and safe distances throwing pot shots like a child would throw rocks at a caged Wampa. Intermittently the great weapon would seem to notice them and fire a precise shot blossoming a starship or frigate into spacedust and causing them to retreat even further. Satellites and space beacons suffered the same fate.

Another failed attempt caused Luke to feel the deep pressure of lost hope pressing heavily upon his chest. He knew that feelings such as those would be dangerous during a battle meld, his despair would be sprinkled across their shared thoughts ten-fold and what might've only been a spark of uncertainty could light a flame of despondency and hopelessness among the rest of his crew. Grimly he realized that it wasn't only his thoughts that were permeating him, his waves of uneasiness were being met and matched. Luke was losing his team. He would have to find a way to unite them, reignite their cause and accomplish their task. He thought of Han, of what a great leader he really was at times like these. The Corellian's optimism was unyielding and he never gave up puzzling out a new way out of an age-old dead end.

Luke wished Han could talk to his troops now, that their General could supply the rallying cry that they all needed, including him, but they were in radio silence and there was no use in hoping for the impossible. But then an idea came to Luke that lit up his psyche with thought as one would turn on a lightsaber in preparation for battle it chased the pressing darkness away. It was brilliant and simple and would accomplish everything that needed to be done and Han would love it. Luke smiled and let his new idea permeate through the meld, feeling it prickle at the thoughts of his crew as if it were their own idea coming to light within them. He felt little resistance and in the end they fell in line behind him, prepared to see this new plan through. Waves of excitement skidded across the meld where despair had just been. If his plan worked it would be magnificent. Luke didn't allow himself to think about any other option. It would work, or they would not be.

* * *

><p>The Eclipse<em>, somewhere near Coruscant<em>

Han and the Jedi Master listened as the firefight ensued. Coruscant's own security forces were no idle threat even with being abandoned by the Republic military, or so they had thought. Shocked reports of entire frigates exploding like test cylinders filled the airwaves. Han wondered what the Empire's strategy was; from all that they had discerned the fire power of that station could disintegrate Coruscant with one blow. Complete annihilation wasn't as big a prize as violent overthrow and domination, he thought derisively. If the military had been there or if they were to return, they would be obliterated. If his men could get this done, it would be a magnificent win.

Then, with the feeling of his own heart being ripped from his chest, the entire viewscreen went blank. "Tonsk?" Han said tightly.

His lieutenant was hunched over the command board seemingly in the same instant that they had lost the signal. "We've lost all communications with Coruscant," he said in the matter-of-fact tone that his training would've expected of him. "It seems isolated to Capital City. We are still receiving strong signals from Naboo and other neighboring systems remain online." Tonsk straightened and turned to Han. "My estimation is that the enemy has perhaps destroyed the satellite systems that enable interplanetary communications. It would be in the strategic norm."

Han turned to the Jedi Master Tiin who stood beside him with his head inclined and his eyes closed.

"They are intense; focused," Tiin said as he opened his eyes. "They are still in the fight."

Han began to pace back and forth on the command deck. It was not in his nature to sit back and let the action unfurl without him. At least with the sights and sounds of battle that his display board had afforded him, he had felt a part of the battle to some degree. With all contact with his squad and the _Millennium Falcon_ cut off, he was flying blind, separated from his squad and left immobilized and powerless.

The silence of the remaining crew was deafening and he began to ask questions just to remind them all that they were all still alive and very much in this thing. He did not want his feelings extrapolated across every member of his crew. He was still a leader and it was not over yet.

"Tonsk?" Han asked, not needing any further direction to get the information he wanted from his second.

"Chatter from Naboo indicates all ground forces are retreating. Nothing larger than a common Imperial Shuttle remains in the skies and they are being dealt with accordingly. Continued complete radio silence from Capital City. All signs would indicate an explosion of some-"

A burst of static came across Han's headset and over the speakers throughout the command deck, cutting Tonsk off. "Bloggers!" Han cursed as he pulled the earpiece off of his head and scanned the readouts flipping furiously in front of him.

"Incoming vessel," Tonsk put to voice what Han was reading and the entire bridge pulled in an anxious breath and held it.

"Grraawwwaaahhh!" Came the loud, welcomed sound and accompanied sight of the _Millennium Falcon_ and its Wookiee pilot.

The primal grunts and roars from Chewbacca could not be discerned as either joyous or damning by an untrained ear and so all eyes turned to General Solo for a quick translation. The relieved breath that escaped through the broad smile on his face was all they needed to know that they had won. The bridge erupted with the sound of cheering, hoots and laughter as the rest of his squad winked into existence all around them. General Han Solo blinked through tears at the beautiful sight.

He had rushed down to the hangar bay none-too-gracefully to greet his returning squad members, half-listening as, with radio communications still severely limited, Tonsk relayed reports between Coruscant and Naboo of the mysterious destruction of the Empire's superweapon.

"Shall I re-establish communications with the Republic?" Tonsk questioned him as Han stood and watched his flock of X-wings return to their nest.

"Not yet. I want to enjoy this for a little while."

"As you command."

The canopies of the returning X-wings popped open with the sounds of woops and victorious howls. Han watched calmly, his hands clasped behind his back, his body held neutrally in a relaxed military posture. But the stubborn smile splashed across his face betrayed the excitement he was holding inside of him. He saw Arch and Luke, Timmons and Pruitt, but it was the detection of the slender form of one lone, female Jedi pilot that finally allowed his heart to continue beating once again.

"May I be the first to congratulate you, sir?" Tonsk asked, as they watched the Jedi dismount and share jubilant exchanges and hugs.

"This isn't my moment," Han replied, his eyes remaining forward. "It's theirs," he said, lifting his chin toward his men. "And yours," he added, looking toward Tonsk. "Thank you."

"You're most welcome, sir. I feel honored to have been a part of it."

Before Han could respond, he heard an excited voice approaching him, saying, "It worked! By the stars, we did it!"

Han looked back toward his squad; they were all racing toward him with excited smiles on their faces. _Like children_, he thought and smiled. Jedi Master Tiin stepped up to stand beside Han and offered him a slight nod of congratulations and respect which Han accepted silently.

"Did you hear that?" Pruitt asked above the din of the other's voices. "It worked! Not exactly right, but it worked!"

"Yeah, all that time loafing around must've scrambled Arch's transistors," Timmons teased as he rushed up beside Pruitt. "He almost wrecked the whole thing."

"But he didn't," Luke Skywalker added. "I still can't believe we did it."

Han glanced surreptitiously at Leia, unable to resist the quick exchange of reunion and relief that they were able to convey in that instant. "Did what exactly? What worked?" Han finally asked. "We've been out of it. All we know is that you got the thing."

Pruitt glanced between Jedi Master Tiin, Lieutenant Tonsk and Han and said, "The Solo Smirk," as if that was supposed to make any sense to anybody.

"The _what?_" Han asked.

"The Solo Smirk. You know? That maneuver you made up."

"You _named_ it?" He said, as he internally processed the fact that _it had worked!_

"Yeah, after you," Timmons added. "And that funny grin you got on your face after every time we did it."

"The look on my face?" Han asked, confused. "But there's only one person who could see my face-" He turned, his eyes tracking slowly toward his lieutenant. "Tonsk? Was this your doing?"

His normally straight-laced lieutenant shrugged mischievously. "Guilty," he replied, not looking the least bit guilty at all.


	73. Chapter 73

A/N: **Warning**: Adult Content ahead...

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny<em>…

The Eclipse_, somewhere near Coruscant_

The task of reporting in to the Republic Military quickly sobered Han's jubilant mood. Any remnants of annoyance he felt with Tonsk's cheeky naming of the "Solo Smirk" was forgotten as his lieutenant assisted him deftly with fielding questions and filing all of the right kinds of reports. With all of his squad docked in the hangar bay of the _Eclipse_, Han moved the frigate to hover over the skies of Coruscant.

They were the first military vessel to arrive as a sign of peace and victory. On the streets of Capital City, inhabitants were huddled in their homes as the debris from the exploded superweapon rained down, delivering its own type of terror and fear. Before they could even unzip their uniforms, his squad had gotten back into their X-wings and joined the Coruscant military forces as they shot down the larger chunks of rubble, doing their best to mitigate any further damage to the infrastructure below.

Han napped between conference calls and signed report after report with one eye open as the hours streamed by undeterred by such things as meals, drinks or showers. Thirty-six standard hours had passed, the _Millennium Falcon_ had come and gone twice and Han couldn't count the number of times that he had asked Tonsk to reiterate the capability of a Jedi to belay normal sentient needs such as other pilots required.

When the last of his squad had returned and only when the hangar bay doors had been shut did he finally consider retreating to his quarters for some much needed rest.

"It'll be much the same tomorrow," Tonsk had told him. "We'll begin repairs to our fleet, supervise the remaining cleanup and prepare for the Republic Military to return within the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours, depending on the situation on Naboo."

"You call me," Han said, pointing a finger and glaring two bleary eyes at his second, "should anything - _anything_ happen."

"Of course, sir. That goes without saying."

"Yeah, well, I said it," Han grumbled as he scratched the back of his head and began the long trek to his quarters.

He showered, foregoing his shave until morning and collapsed into his bed. Before sleep claimed him, he thought of Leia. He had half-expected to find her there waiting for him, but as he fell asleep, he thought no more of it, exhaustion curing him of all extraneous thoughts. When he woke in the morning, he didn't feel so much refreshed as merely recharged. He shaved and dressed and reported to the command deck before planetary daybreak. He was not surprised to find Tonsk waiting for him.

"Republic Military will be arriving sometime tomorrow. A few of our crew went back out to continue assisting in the cleanup. I did not think it necessary to awaken you for that," Tonsk said, clearly hesitating over the last sentence as if doubting his judgment on the matter, or at least Han's estimation of its importance.

"No, that's fine," Han replied, grabbing the offered cup of kaffe from his droid. The darn thing was learning the fine art of silence. "Who's out there?" He asked after his first sip.

"I have the report here," Tonsk replied. Han scanned it quickly, not surprised to find Leia among those that had continued to help. "Fine, what red tape do you have me wrapped up in today?" Han asked and thus started another round of endless reports and inquisitions.

* * *

><p>It was late when Han finally found himself returning to his quarters. If everything from the previous days had been torment, he knew that it would pale in comparison to the days ahead of him when the military leaders would return. He had garnered a small amount of satisfaction from the personal holocall from the Galactic Chief of State offering her thanks and admiration of Han's quick-thinking and adept crew. It was during that swift moment of weakness that he had agreed to attend a ceremony of some sort in honor of the occasion. He had spent the rest of the conversation trying to figure a way out of it.<p>

When he opened the door to his apartment all those thoughts and worries escaped him. He let the door close behind him and just stood there, a wide grin growing exponentially across his face. Leia sat on one of his dining chairs, her hair down and visually damp. She was wearing one of his undershirts, her legs were tucked up against her chest, her knees buried inside of the large garment where he could see her toes poking out from beneath the hem of the white fabric. Her arms were bare and wrapped around the front of her, hugging her hidden legs to her body. With her head tilted and her cheek pressed against the tops of her knees; she looked like a small child.

The ache inside of him reminded him just how much he had missed her and how long it had been since they had been alone last. It felt as if an eternity had passed between them and that they would have to reacquaint themselves all over again to the act of being a couple. The giddiness of victory that he had left on the tarmac of the hangar bay all those long hours ago came back to him as Leia lifted her head and smiled excitedly at him.

"You were right," she said. It wasn't nearly the first time that he had heard those words in the past couple of days, but it was the first time he truly accepted their meaning.

He walked towards her, knowing that it had been with her that he had wanted to celebrate their success and enjoy the intoxicating feeling of validation and triumph. His excitement was met and matched only by the surge of emotions that was her response to him. He made a noise that sounded like tortured pleasure and liberation as he lifted her up into his arms and kissed her passionately. Her legs draped obediently around his waist and his kiss was continually broken by her incessant smiles and laughter. He drank her in, ignoring her teasing and squirming until he finally pulled back and stared at her breathlessly, surprised by his own impatience and enthusiasm.

"Did you miss me?" She giggled.

Her mocking tone only fueled his fire and, choosing not to respond right away, he instead kissed her again as he walked backwards toward the couch. Plopping down onto the cushions of the sofa, he landed with her straddled upon his lap. Their kiss broken again, he looked at her, her chest heaving with excitement and anticipation. "Not one bit," he lied in answer to her question, as he freed her of his borrowed undershirt in one swift motion.

The innocent sound of her laughter made him think more deeply about it. His victory had not seemed real until this moment as if her validation of it were all that he required to accept it and to finally embrace it and enjoy it. He had not done it for her specifically but it was only with her that he wanted to acknowledge it and only her that he would allow to witness his celebration of it. It was not a feeling that he was used to and it felt in some ways more intimate than the physical relationship that they had recently begun to share.

She clung to him as he paid attention to her neck, her collarbone and her breasts and he sat back and grinned as she pushed him away, tore off his uniform and undershirt and returned the favor to him. His amused smirk vanished when her hand found his hardened desire and she stroked it through the coarse fabric of his trousers. She was bolder every time they were together and he had begun to look forward to what new side of her he would find each and every time. There was no careful preparation before she had freed him and began to lower herself slowly, carefully and yet determinedly down onto his length.

As his head fell back against the cushions of his sofa, he did not know of what pleasure or pain she was experiencing at that moment, only that it was one of the most fantastically maddening things he had ever experienced in his entire life. When she had finally sheathed him completely, she began to move herself on top of him. It was with great difficulty that he tried to focus and concentrate on anything other than completely passing out. He could hear his voice speaking to her; not knowing what he might be saying but imagining what the occasion might call for. Her innocent laughter and the sultry tone of her responses continued to enchant him, further encasing him in a prison void of coherent thinking.

Something he whispered must've hit a nerve for her, he realized, as she pulled away leisurely and purred at him, "No I'm not, you're-" But then he cut her response off with a kiss, propelling them further down into the fine art of what it was that she had been doing. The only piece of reality that his mind could cling to was the fact that, whatever she _was_ doing with her body, using muscles he wasn't even sure she was supposed to have, she was apparently enjoying it as much as he was. There was no doubt that she liked being on top, or as he cheekily teased her, _in control_. That observation, she did not seem to appreciate, and he felt slightly intoxicated as he hurriedly stepped out of his uniform pants and chased the blur of alabaster skin that had suddenly abandoned him, streaking across the apartment and running in the other direction.

It was easy to find her; he followed the sound of her laughter. When he entered his bedroom and found her tucked in his bed holding the covers up to her chin, he stopped and sobered. She looked innocent and beautiful and for the first time he wondered how he had found himself there. She seemed too delicate and ethereal to be had by him or any other mere mortal who walked amongst the dull realities of everyday life. Her eyes tracked him as he approached the bed slowly. When he slipped into the bed beside her, she reached her hand out and touched his cheek.

"Do you want to be in control?" She asked, betraying the slightest hint of hesitation and vulnerability mixed behind the glint of mischievousness still dancing in her eyes.

"Not one bit," he answered honestly this time.

She tucked her bottom lip in her mouth and bit on it. He was unable to stop the absolute urge that overtook him to see what that bottom lip tasted like between his own teeth. It was the only signal or encouragement she apparently required to continue her exploration of him. And , as he was thrown onto his back with her body draped across him, he thought that he had never been more eager to be so painstakingly discovered.

* * *

><p>"Solo," Han answered groggily into his bedside intercom.<p>

"_It's planetary daybreak on Capital City and I have the standard update from Naboo, as you requested. The Republic fleet arrived a short time ago and your day has already been booked solid with commitments planetside._"

It was Tonsk's voice and Han listened intently while his eyes tracked over the long line of silky white skin that was draped across his abdomen. He traced his fingers lightly along the tender-most part of her arm, subtly drawing her out of her deep sleep. His eyes held steady the deep, warm brown pools staring up at him as he responded to the bodiless voice that was filling the room, "Go ahead with the report from Naboo."

He watched as her eyes tracked over to look at the intercom. "_There are only a few, tertiary forces still engaged in combat. The Republic has appropriated a small contingent to remain and ensure all is wrapped up accordingly by the local military forces, such as they are_," Tonsk's voice intoned. "_There is a seemingly unrelated standoff at a prominent children's hospital in the lake country, additional forces are being sent in to quell it. The Queen of Naboo has declared victory to her people_."

Han smiled at her as she turned to look at him, but she appeared troubled as she levered herself off of him and turned away. "Thank you, lieutenant," Han said to the intercom. "I'll be dressed and ready to catch a shuttle for planetside by oh-six-hundred."

"_I will have everything prepared_," Tonsk replied his words as efficient as his actions.

"Solo out," Han stated as he cut the connection. He turned onto his side, resting on his elbow while he pushed the hair off of Leia's forehead with his other hand. "What's the matter?" He asked.

"That hospital is very near our home."

"Is something wrong?"

He never asked her to use her senses, never referred to her powers not even in indirect reference of them. He watched as she stilled herself, wondering just how it would feel to brush someone's consciousness from lightyears away. "I can't tell," she said, closing her eyes in apparent frustration. "My mother is hard to read, but I'm getting strange signals from my father."

"Strange like what? Are they still together?"

She opened her eyes, sitting up abruptly. "Something's not right, but I can't place it. I think I want to talk to Luke."

"What is it?" He pressed, not even understanding exactly why. He felt certain that her mother and father were just fine, yet he was compelled to understand the whats and the hows of the method that she was using to retrieve her information when at the same time already dismissing whatever it was that she might find. He wondered also on the jealous pang he experienced when she mentioned needing her brother.

"I don't know," she said curtly as she stood, pulling the sheet along with her to wrap around herself. She looked down at him, a warm fire burning behind the liquid in her eyes. "I can't tell. It isn't like a holocomm, it isn't always clear."

She seemed distraught and he chastised himself for being so selfish. "Alright," he returned softly as he swung his legs around and came to stand on her side of the bed. He placed his hands on her upper arms, squeezing them reassuringly. "I'm sure everything's fine. Why don't you get dressed and then you can use an actual holocomm to contact your parents and touch base? I'll tell Tonsk to get you through."

Planetary communications with Coruscant and Naboo, other than the military, had been either ceased or extremely limited. He watched as she drew in a deep breath and looked up to him, her face saying everything that her words didn't. "I don't want you to go through any special trouble for me."

He drew her to him and kissed her forehead. "I'll make it happen, don't argue. Round up Luke and make the call. I'll be tied up all day planetside, we'll meet back here tonight. Or wherever it is they have us staying, I'll find you."

She nodded as if in defeat.


	74. Chapter 74

It is Your Destiny…

_Republic Military Headquarters, Coruscant_

It was during one of several meetings that the young courier entered the room solemnly. He walked slowly and purposefully across the floor, amidst the silence his presence had caused and stopped at the side of Commander Madine, bending down and whispering intently into his ear. Han watched as Madine's face reflected the astonishment over the words that he was hearing; he watched as his commander swallowed, digested the information and slowly regained his composure. The young courier handed the Commander a slip of flimsiplast and exited the conference room in the same slow, deliberate manner in which he had arrived. When the door slid shut behind him, all eyes turned to Madine.

"There's been a disturbing report from Naboo," Madine began as he cleared his throat. "The assumed insignificant standoff at the children's hospital has ended in…an unexpected loss and abhorrent tragedy."

Han's spine stiffened at the mention of the hospital that had so upset Leia earlier that morning. The back of his neck prickled with anticipation of Madine's next words.

"The former Queen and senator of Naboo, Padme Amidala Skywalker was struck down in an apparent attempt to protect the young charges she was attending to at the time. Reports are still coming in, but the assailants appeared to be using lightsabers. The Queen sacrificed herself to end the attack. The death toll is over a half a dozen, but reportedly could've been much worse."

Han felt as if his breath had been stolen from him and his vision blurred a bit as Madine looked down at the flimsiplast and continued to speak.

"As we all know, the Queen was wife to Anakin Skywalker and, contrary to the unofficial reports that had been received by his children," Madine glanced at Han, "the Jedi Skywalker was not on Naboo, as far as any official reports can tell, at the time of the attack. His current whereabouts remain unknown. The children, the twins, have been notified and have been given priority protection and transport to return to their home world."

Leia already knew and was gone? "What kind of protection?" Han asked, his mind snapping back into place at this new bit of information.

Madine sighed heavily. "I know that the pair were part of your squad, General, but they have been granted temporary leave. Their safety is now of my concern."

"Their safety will always be my concern and priority, leave or not," Han replied evenly. "What kind of protection?" He repeated.

"In light of this distressing news, why don't we take a break and reconvene after the lunch hour?" Madine said to the beings around the large table. Han sat, starkly still, as everyone agreed and began to collect their belongings, rise from their places at the table and file out of the room. He had not taken his eyes off of Madine as the room emptied and, after a time, the pair found themselves alone.

Madine lifted a small remote and closed the conference room door. "The Republic owes you a debt of gratitude for your services in regards to the destruction of the Imperial superweapon," he started.

Han wondered how their previous conversation had brought them back here. He clamped his teeth down on any question or response, waiting for whatever Madine was priming himself to say.

"What I'm about to discuss with you should in no way be construed as belittling your recent accomplishments. Nothing can take that which you have done away from you," Madine continued; he did not seem to enjoy what he was saying or to be deriving any pleasure in what he was about to say. "There has been a report, a complaint filed, against you regarding an alleged inappropriate relationship with a person under your command."

Han felt like Madine's heavy military boot had just slammed down onto his chest and neck, crushing the flow of air from his head to his lungs.

"These are the types of things that are best addressed like this," Madine said, holding his hands up to encompass the empty room. "If there is any truth to it, better to move on with it now then to drag it out there," he said, indicating the busy halls of the building outside of the conference room door. "The intention behind the formation of your squad, the purpose behind its creation has been served. A reassignment at this juncture will not raise many eyebrows."

Han looked down at the table, then around at the drab colored walls and yellow, stark lighting; anywhere but at Madine and the words he was hearing him say. Who could've filed such a report? Who could've known or suspected? Tonsk? Luke? His damn droid? It didn't really matter, he told himself. Madine was right, it was best not to try and fight the truth. "What would be my new assignment?" Han asked evenly as he moved his eyes back to rest upon Commander Madine.

Han watched as the man took his response as the confession that it was. One did not rise to the level of commander without seeing this kind of thing before, Han knew. It was not shock that crossed Crix's features but merely acceptance and perhaps relief that for once it would be handled honestly, as honestly as closed-door, back room politics could be. Han also knew that the report would be squelched, the squealer pacified and the matter slowly leaked along the hallways, amongst the kaffe pots and in the bathroom stalls of the entire military, government and eventually the galaxy – for anyone that cared to know.

His insides twisted and he swallowed the lump at the back of his throat. He thought of Leia, of her innocent face and childlike outlook and how this would taint all of that in the eyes of the depraved public. But that did not matter now. She was suffering a much larger and more important kind of concern and though all of this seemed wholly inconvenient and unfair, it would also mean that they would not have to hide it any longer. He wondered briefly in that moment if the Jedi Council was included in that report.

"You will return to your previous assignment under Republic Intelligence. You will retain your rank and pay and report to Airen Cracken for further instructions," Madine stated as if he had memorized the words.

"When am I expected to report?"

"You've been granted a short leave to….celebrate your victory. Cracken relayed to me that the _Millennium Falcon_ is at your disposal should you want to…travel anywhere during your free time."

For everything that was wrong with what was happening to him, Han was thankful that Madine and Cracken had seemingly worked together to soften the blow. "Thank you," he said, meaning it.

"And to answer your original question," Madine replied, glossing over Han's gratitude. "Luke and Leia Skywalker are being accompanied by the Jedi Masters Yoda, Tiin and Windu, along with several other Jedi Knights and a squad of my best officers. They will remain with the Skywalkers for the duration of their time on Naboo."

"Thank you," Han said again and this time added, "Crix."

Madine stood, reached his arm across the table and as Han accepted it and shook it, said, "You're welcome, General Solo," granting the same reverence to Han's title as Han had given his first name.


	75. Chapter 75

It is Your Destiny…

_Naboo_

_He doesn't like funerals_. That was the first thing Leia thought of when she recognized Han Solo amongst the faces of mourners at the funeral of her mother. It was the first odd fact that had entered her head in the blur of hours and days that had recently streamed by her. Nothing but the unreality of her mother's death and the broken world that it had left in its wake seemed able to permeate her mind since she had first heard the horrible news.

Her mother's services had been combined with the services of the children she had died trying to protect. The children she had saved, those that were able, were sprinkled about the procession like tiny magnets drawing in the densest crowds. Her father was nowhere to be found and except for an abrupt flare through the Force and immediate withdrawal, she nor Luke were able to sense him any longer.

Republic Military officers discreetly armed and dressed in civilian clothing hovered all around her, never letting her wander too far from their grasp. She did not know from whom they were protecting her. She no longer had a clear understanding of who her enemies might be and she doubted her ability to spot them should they arrive. It was something else she shrugged off, not willing or able to give it much thought, like what dress her mother should be laid out in and who would cater the gathering at the estate following the services. _Let them worry about all of that and let them see to my well being_, she thought; it was of no consequence to her any longer.

The pale blue of her mother's gown was the only thing that teased at the periphery of Leia's vision. She kept her eyes forward, accepting the solemn condolences and warm handshakes as the myriad of people flowed past her in procession. She neither cried nor smiled as she listened to their stories and watched them wipe their wet eyes. Nothing, not their words or their grief, would bring her mother back and that was the only thing that she would like to pay attention to at that moment in time. The one thing that was entirely impossible.

Her mind drifted along the banks of her own memories, back to the feel of her mother's touch and the sound of her soft voice, the smooth caress of her roiling laughter in response to some flippant remark of Leia's. She shut her eyes briefly, recreating the planes of her mother's cheekbones, the waves of her auburn hair and the rich color of her chestnut eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Leia."

It was the sound of Han's voice that drew her back to the reality of the moment. She opened her eyes to find the warm flecks of gold in his hazel eyes catching the soft reflection of the Naboo sun. She felt a smile that was only for him spread across her, knowing that he would recognize it on her face and in her eyes even if it never made it to her mouth. "Thank you," she said, as she had said so many times before that day; the words only now coming across with the breadth of their meaning and intent.

Han moved to take his hand away, which she had accepted without even knowing whose it was. She squeezed it between her own, holding his attention for a second longer. "Find Winter or Threepio, make sure they know to let you come to the house."

"Winter or Threepio," he repeated. "Okay."

She nodded once more, holding his eyes with her own until she finally let go of him and moved on.

* * *

><p>Han hated funerals. He remembered, uneasily, that he had told her that before. Back then she had looked at him, the sting of Bail's death still sharp in her eyes, and accepted what he had told her. It was small glimpses like that one of her quiet strength that had drawn him to her, that continued demonstration of how much she did not need him that had attracted him to her. Funny that he found himself now wanting with every fiber of his being to protect her and comfort her and discover that part of her that <em>did <em>need him, desperately, and that he was so very confident was there waiting to be found.

She was perpetually surrounded by people. Han easily recognized her security detail and even knew two of the young soldiers assigned to her. He let the hours of the day pass by without pressing the issue of seeing her. It was not his needs that he was concerned about at that moment. But as he watched the day's events take their toll, he felt more and more compelled to rescue her if only for a small, quiet moment of peace.

He watched as she made her way to a far corner of the room they were in; as she crouched down to speak to one of the sick children from the hospital. Han squeezed through the crowd and between the furniture until he could stand next to one of the security officers that he knew. They exchanged a pleasant greeting and Han leaned in and asked him a question. The officer shook his head and nodded toward a door at the far side of the room. Using his best military tone and inflection, Han barked his observation and suggestion as he turned and headed toward the indicated door.

Reaching the small door, Han did not hesitate as he turned the old-fashioned knob and let himself in. He found himself in a small study, the walls lined with shelves and antique, printed books. To his left was another door and straight ahead there was a small desk with a chair set in front of a floor to ceiling window that overlooked a secluded garden. Han walked over to the door finding it to be a small restroom. He had chastised Leia's guards that they had not allowed her any personal time and ordered them to take her to the nearest quiet corner and grant her a moment's privacy. By the time he had performed a cursory check of the area, the door opened and Leia was escorted in.

Han met the eyes of the security officer and after a brief pause, heard Leia saying, "Can you give us a minute, please?"

The young man seemed clearly torn between his charged duty, Han's rank and Leia's request. Han kept his tone civil, yet formal when he said, "Put a man at that window and outside that door and give the lady ten minutes. There's a 'fresher in there. I already checked it."

The officer hesitated, looked down at Leia and then, after whispering a directive to his counterpart, entered the room and shut the door behind him. "Forgive me, sir," he said to Han as he walked across the room, opened the small door and checked out the refresher for himself. When he emerged, he walked around the room, looked under the desk, found his man now standing outside the window and then turned to Leia. "Are you okay with me standing outside of this door, Jedi Skywalker?"

"I'm fine with everything being handled as General Solo described," Leia replied, her voice faintly hoarse.

"Ten minutes, then," the officer replied crisply as he bowed to her and left the room.

When the door shut behind the officer and Han found himself alone with Leia, he drew a blank on what it was he could possibly say to her. "Have you eaten?" He asked, as it was the first concern that had popped into his head.

She shook her head almost imperceptibly.

Han read her guarded looked and dropped the subject. He didn't quite feel up to eating either. "I am…so very sorry," Han said, his words choppy in their delivery. He was finding it hard to separate the choice he had made her make from the consequences they were now dealing with.

"We both know," she started but then stopped. She took a step toward him. "We both know there was nothing we could've done to stop this. Even if we would've stayed, we wouldn't have been at that hospital; this result here would've been the same."

He felt guilty that she was now reassuring and comforting him. That was not what he had wanted to accomplish by his presence here. But the conversation had to happen. It was better that they had addressed it now then letting it sit between them. Whatever words of comfort she needed then refused to come anyway and he felt helpless. Then, from somewhere deep in his thoughts, a memory of a dream came to him; a vision of her in his arms, of a gentle kiss on her head. He recalled that he had thought of it as fatherly and protective and thought that that was what she needed now.

He stepped toward her and drew her to him, circling his arms around her just as he had in the dream. She did not resist him, but settled comfortably in his embrace, resting her cheek against his chest and breathing deeply. He kissed her on the top of her head. And then, just as in the dream, a noise separated them. Voices from the other side of the door made them pull apart to listen. The handle of the door turned and she stepped out of his embrace just as her brother entered the room.

Han turned to face the young Jedi. "Luke," he said, his name both a greeting and a condolence.

The look in Luke's eyes was one that Han had trouble identifying but would not soon forget. If he was pressed, he would've called it hatred. Luke and Leia exchanged a glance whose meaning Han could only guess at.

"You're needed outside," Luke addressed his sister tightly.

Leia glanced toward Han and seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then she nodded at Luke and brushed past him silently as she exited the room. Luke purposefully and slowly shut the door behind his sister, encasing him and Han in the silence of the small room. "I don't know what it is I want to say to you," Luke said, his words delivered stiltedly with the same purpose and slowness as he had shut the door.

Han had to jump to the conclusion that Luke had heard about his and Leia's relationship; he had no choice but to go there. Nothing else could convince his mind otherwise, not even that Luke could be upset about the abandoning of Naboo. His words, his manner, his posture, it all indicated something of a very personal nature. Still, he skirted the issue by saying – quoting Leia's own words, "I'm sorry, Luke, but if the squad would've stayed, we wouldn't have stopped this."

Luke's eyes tore into Han, the pale blue stare ripping through him like shards of ice. "I know that."

Han swallowed; forced, it seemed, to press on. "If this is about your sister," Han started calmly. "She and I-"

"I don't wish to _think_ about that right now," Luke said seething as he cut Han off. "Whatever you are to her, know this: I will not stand idly by while she is trampled by _anyone_, and I mean anyone."

Han watched as Luke said his piece, somewhere in the back of his mind realizing that it was not at Han that Luke was lashing out, but at some being that was not there to receive the brunt of these raw emotions. But the young Jedi's words were sincere and the depth of the feeling that was behind them came through just fine no matter who they might have been aimed at. "I don't intend to hurt your sister, Luke."

"I don't give a damn about your intentions either," Luke replied. "You have no idea what you are walking into and for that I can't place the blame on you. But I renounce any forgiveness that you might have been afforded had you not entered into this so blindly."

Han blinked, trying to absorb Luke's words. It felt as if he were trying to translate a language that he didn't quite understand. "Luke, I don't know what you're talking about."

"I know you don't," he said calmly. "But how much have you asked? How much have you applied yourself to know? Aside from whatever it is that you two have shared, _I know_, that it's not _everything_."

Han sensed that this had something to do with the Jedi or the Force and immediately relaxed a little. "Look, kid, I don't try to understand-"

"I know you don't!" Luke yelled. "And that's exactly my point." He seemed to calm himself, remembering where he was and what occasion had them there. Luke ran his hands over his clothing, ironing out the creases in both the fabric and his features in one swift motion. "I want to thank you for coming today," he said, as if Han were some nameless neighbor coming to pay his respects and that that was the only way Luke could see him in order to speak to him civilly. "Both Leia and I appreciate it," he added, seemingly disregarding and dismissing any and all conversation or argument that they had just had, and then he nodded and left the room.

Han stood there dumbfounded by everything that had just transpired. He felt sure that Luke was angry with almost everyone or anyone but him. His first impression had been that Luke was speaking to his absent father, but then also, most significantly, to Leia. He could not make heads or tails out of the encrypted gibberish that the young Jedi had spouted off at him through clenched teeth and with tightened fists. It was almost as if it was Han he was trying to protect and not his sister. He breathed a long breath out and shook his head, perplexed.


	76. Chapter 76

It is Your Destiny…

_The Main Ballroom in the Galactic Senate Towers, Coruscant_

As far as parties in his honor went, this one was not turning out so great. The death of Padme Skywalker and the children of that hospital had taken most of the frivolity away from the victory, marring its significance and importance. They were all back on Coruscant; his entire squad was there, Luke and Leia just arriving back from Naboo early that morning. Han stood at the bar, his elbow propped up against it with a drink in his hand.

The transfer that Madine had offered him was being discussed around the room as if it were an ordinary career progression. Out of everyone in his crew, it had been Tonsk and Tee-Nineteen that had seemed to take the news the hardest. Han still hadn't figured out who had filed that report and the suspicion ate at him like a physical disease. Luke kept his distance, thankfully; Han wasn't sure if he could survive another encounter with that Skywalker twin. Leia, on the other hand, dressed as she was for the occasion, was drawing his eyes at every turn and making him wish for a dark corner he could take her to for another kind of encounter.

The couple hadn't been intimate since that night aboard the _Eclipse_. Han understood why and the reasons were not trivial by any means but that didn't make it any easier. With a few Corellian brandies warming his gut and nothing but two thin straps holding up her dress, he was finding it harder and harder to stay away from her. They had danced, as they had with others; they had spoken, like anyone else; but the looks, the small touches while gliding past one another, they were all adding up to a maddening desire to have her once again as he had not had her in too long a time.

He also yearned to simply _be _with her as they had had so many opportunities to do so while living in their small world on board the _Eclipse_. They had not been able to discuss anything since the victory. He hadn't talked to her about her mother, her father or Luke's wild tirade. He didn't even know if she had ever let herself mourn or outright cry. They would soon be sent off in different directions and there was so much that he wanted to take care of before distance separated them as well as circumstance.

From across the room he noticed her watching him and after a long moment of staring at each other, she turned purposefully and strode out of the room. Setting his drink down on the bar he made a beeline to the door through which she'd exited. Once in the long marble hallway, he twisted his body to the left and quickly back to the right, trying to determine the direction of the clicking heels disappearing in the distance. He followed the sound faroff to his left, his heart pounding at the thought of what waited for him at the end of his search. Turning a corner, he saw a door teetering precariously on one lone hinge and he heard the clicking heels stop somewhere past it.

Standing outside of the room, he took a deep breath in before he stepped around the tilting door and stepped in. She was standing at the far end of the room, clearly waiting for him, her back and the palms of her hands pressed against the wall behind her. He walked over to her and looked down at her with a small smile.

Running the backs of his fingers up the cool skin of her arm, he said, "You've been driving me crazy all night."

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. The events of the past month had aged her. Not with wrinkles and grey hair but with a hardness in her eyes, a dulling of the twinkle that still struggled to remain there, like the shine on the ancient marble floors at their feet. "I don't even think I needed the Force to figure that out," she replied.

"How are you?"

"I heard about your transfer."

"There's time to talk about that later."

"After everything you've done," she whispered, her eyes full of hurt.

"Hey," he replied with a crooked grin. "I don't need any of that. I get to fly the _Falcon _again so to hell with them."

"To hell with them," she repeated as she seemed to enjoy the way the words sounded when she said them.

"To hell with everything," Han whispered to her as he bent his head down to hers.

"Damnit all to hells," she answered him right before he captured her mouth in a kiss.

Then, he had her pressed against the wall, his mouth covering hers possessively. The palm of his hand slid over the soft, warm exposed skin of her shoulder, trailing down her arm until it landed on her hip. Ever so slowly he began to work his way up her torso, over her rib cage until his hand was covering her breast. Leia let out a deep whimpering moan and Han released her mouth and began to plant warm, open-mouth kisses along her jawline and over her shoulder.

"Han," she breathed out.

The sound of his name wrapped in lustful breaths only drove him further. His hand moved up once again following the curve of her shoulder but this time, taking the thin strap of her dress along with it. He felt the change in her breathing before his palm landed on her exposed breast and his fingers kneaded at the warm, pliable flesh drawing another deep moan from her. His face dropped down, his lips covering her breast, his tongue swirling around the tiny pebble it found there. Leia's hands fisted up into his hair, drawing his head ever closer to her.

"Han," she breathed again. Never had his name sounded so sweet to his own ears. "Stop, please."

It took a moment for his mind to fully comprehend her words, so much in contradiction to her body as they were. She couldn't want him to stop - he could tell she didn't want him to stop. He reluctantly abandoned her breast and returned to her mouth. She closed her mouth to his kiss, turning her face away from him.

"Please," she begged him.

He looked at her thunderstruck. Her body had tensed against his, finally catching up to what her mind was saying. She pulled the strap of her dress back up over her shoulder covering herself. He still stood pressed against her intimately. She turned her face back to meet his eyes. He saw a look, something there that he did not recognize.

"I would like to have a word with my daughter, please, General Solo."

The man's voice was painfully familiar. He felt her body tense against him as he mentally placed it. _My daughter_. Her father's voice. Han froze in place like one of the statues lining the hallways. Nothing in her expression gave him a clue as what he should do. Had she sensed her father approaching? Is that why she had stopped him? Before he could think to turn around, she pushed herself from beneath him and stepped around him.

"Father," she said, her voice making the word sound like a slur instead of any sort of term of endearment.

"Leia," he replied, his voice made her name sound like an apology.

"What are you doing here?" She spit the words at him like bile climbing up her throat.

Her father's eyes flickered toward Han and Han took a step away from the wall to stand next to Leia.

"I'd like to speak to you alone," Anakin said.

"No," Leia stated evenly. "Where were you?" She asked again, her words slowly stilted.

Anakin's gaze dropped away from Leia's and Han watched as she took a step toward her father.

"Why weren't you there? _With_ her? _Protecting_ her?" She continued approaching him, her voice rising.

"I was…_protecting_ her in my own way," he replied as if the words themselves were painful. His eyes were still studying the floor between them.

"_In your own way?_ What does that _mean_? Where have you _been_? What have you been _doing_?"

"I…cannot answer you," he said, finally raising his eyes to face her. "I can only say that I am as…devastated as you are with what has happened during my absence."

"Then why?" Leia screamed the words at her father as she placed her hands on his chest and shoved him away from her. "Why weren't you there?"

Anakin stepped back and continued to step back matching Leia's forward motion toward him.

Leia pushed her father forward with each syllable with every word spoken in damnation to him, her voice sliding downward from angry screams to desperate pleading. "What are you hiding? What were you doing? Why won't you answer?"

Anakin's back had met the wall of the small room and Leia stood in front of him with closed fists banging on her father's chest. For a moment it was like a space collision and Han could do nothing more but stand there and stare. Then he crossed the room toward Leia and pulled her off of her father, spinning her around and holding her against him. She still had her arms up and her hands balled up in fists as she buried her face into Han's chest and began crying.

Han looked over her head to make eye contact with Anakin Skywalker, the strongest most promising Jedi of the Galactic Order. The man looked belittled and completely horrified by the entire display. Han felt the utmost sympathy for the man in that moment. Anakin looked at Leia buried against Han's chest, encircled protectively by his arms and what Han saw then was a certain kind of realization and acceptance. He saw a father realizing and accepting that his daughter was no longer his but belonged now to someone else.

Without even knowing that he planned on saying it until he did, Han drew in a breath and said to Anakin in reassurance and confession, "I love her."

The room seemed drenched in a prolonged silence; his words hanging in the air between the trio like heavy rain falling on them when they were already too soaked to notice it. He felt Leia once again tense in his arms. This had not been the reaction that he had expected from either of them. Leia's cathartic sobs stopped almost immediately and her breathing became halting.

"I see," Anakin replied slowly pushing himself away from the wall that Leia had pinned him against.

Leia tore herself from within Han's embrace and spun to face her father. "No, you don't," she seethed, Han watched as her skin seemed to crackle with energy. She took a step back, almost stumbling as she looked between him and her father. For a brief moment Han felt sure that she was prepared to kill one of them. "Neither one of you do," she added as she turned and stormed out of the room.

Her father watched her leave, his eyes narrowing in what looked like concern and then pity. He turned to Han. "General Solo, although you may love Leia as you claim. You must also accept who she is…_fully_, as she will have to do the same with you."

Han did not respond; he did not fully comprehend what he had just been told or what had just happened and as such felt that he couldn't respond. The protective inferno of emotions that he had expected from her father, such as the reaction he had garnered from Luke, was not at all what he had received. It did not escape him, however, at least somewhere in the back of his consciousness that their messages - Anakin's and Luke's – as convoluted as they appeared, seemed to be exactly the same.

"Please tell Leia that I am sorry that I have caused her this pain. I will answer for all that I have done someday and on that day, I hope that, among so many other things, the love of my daughter will be redeemed. Tell her that I will wait for it."

Han said nothing, only watching Anakin Skywalker turn and leave as Leia had just done. He thought about the man's words and how they compared with Luke's. The full idea behind their meanings was something that seemed to be just out of his grasp; a prenatal concept that had yet to develop into anything that he could give shape to. That it had to do with the Force was perfectly and painfully clear. When he was with Leia, he had to admit, it was easy to forget that she was a Jedi. But that was doing a great injustice to her as it would to him if she ignored the fact that he was a man, a soldier or a pilot. He had a duty to remember what she was, _everything _that she was and to guide her and love her with that full knowledge as her father had once done. It wasn't something that he felt sure that he was prepared for.

When he stepped past the unhinged door and exited the room he was surprised to find Leia standing in the hallway waiting for him. He walked over to her without a word and she watched him in silence. He stood before her for a moment before she grabbed the front of his shirt, dragging him down to her and kissing him deeply, her hands fisting in his hair for the long, curious moment that encompassed that kiss. When she was done she pulled back, rested her forehead against his. "I'm sorry."

He wasn't entirely sure of what she was sorry for but he felt ready to accept the apology for any reason at all so that they could move on from wherever it was they were. Han pulled back so that he could look at her, their unspoken conversation hanging between them like hot breath on a freezing morning. Then, glancing down the deserted hallway, he said, "Leia, I think your father was sincere." It was not what he had meant to say, but the words came out just the same.

"His sincerity is not in question here," she replied. "And I think it would be better if you just dropped it."

He held her gaze for a moment longer, realizing that this was not the time nor place to press the issue. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out a pass card for his hotel room. He took her hand and pressed the small chip into her palm. "I'm at the Galactic Arms. The number's on the card."

When she didn't answer right away a shot of terror ripped through him that perhaps she did not plan to come to him and that their relationship, like the unhinged door behind them, was somehow broken and hanging precariously in the balance. He held his breath.

"Alright," she finally replied as her fingers curled around the card. "I'll see you there."


	77. Chapter 77

_A/N: Mature Themes Ahead..._

* * *

><p>It is Your Destiny…<p>

_The Galactic Arms Hotel, Coruscant_

Leia stood outside of the door to Han's hotel room. It was late; later than she had intended to return to him, but she had attended to the business that was her father. She and Luke had delivered him to the Jedi Council. With no proof of where he had been and no excuse for his absence, she did not feel the need to listen in on his proceedings. The Council would question him, but to her it didn't matter where he was or what he was doing, only that he had not been there with her mother and he had not protected her. And now she was gone.

She placed her hand on the door of the hotel room, steadying herself. Earlier that day, as Han had held her in his arms it had been the first time that she had let herself cry. The tears spent on two things: the loss of her dear mother and on a different kind of loss, but just as painful, of her father. And then Han had said what he had said, even now the memory of his words made the anger well up inside of her. It was not anger at him, or at the meaning behind his words, but at where and when and how they had been delivered and most specifically in front of whom.

It had served as a terrifying reminder of why the Jedi discouraged attachments as a rule because she had felt prepared to fight her own father if forced to for the protection of the man that she loved. The secret that had been their relationship and now their love had been kept from their allies for the sake of their rules. But she had not given much thought to keeping the secret of what Han meant to her from her enemies and what they might do with that information should they discover it. She thought about that now. It was the only thing that she had thought about since he had uttered those words.

She could feel him on the other side of the door waiting for her. Her body ached for him. She longed to experience the pleasure that was his possession of her. His anticipation of her arrival shivered across her body like a caress. She would give herself to him this evening as she had done so many times before. It was her deepest desire. She would answer him because she knew that that was his deepest desire. But somewhere in the back of her brain she knew that she would have to tell him so much more than that; more than he even knew or expected that she had to tell. Tonight? She didn't know, but soon. She would have to tell him soon.

The door opened and her hand slid across the air as the barrier disappeared from beneath her touch. Han stood in front of her, questioning her hesitation with a look of confusion and hurt.

"I'm sorry I'm so late," she said. "I wasn't sure if you'd be awake."

"I know that you know I was."

It wasn't like him to call attention to her powers. "I'm sorry," she said again, this time for something different entirely. "Can I come in?"

He had been standing in the doorway blocking her entrance. At her question he stepped back, seemingly embarrassed by his lapse, as she shuffled in. She looked around his room; saw his jacket thrown haphazardly onto an oversized arm chair. Turning around she found him watching her.

"Where've you been?" He asked.

"Luke and I escorted my father to the Jedi Temple."

"Is he under arrest?"

"Jedi don't arrest people. That's for the authorities."

"But, he's being held? Questioned?"

"Why are you so worried about him?

"Why are you not?" He ran his fingers through his hair, he looked agitated. "He lost his wife; he's as devastated as you are. Why can't you see that?"

"He offers no alibi." The calmness of her reply appeared almost cruel when set against the anguish of his question, especially since they were discussing _her_ father.

"Maybe he doesn't need one?" Han asked, but said it almost as if it were a statement.

She breathed deeply through her nose eyeing Han carefully, he felt different…dangerous but not in the physical sense. "He wasn't there; it doesn't matter to me where he was only that he wasn't _there_."

He shook his head. "Neither were you, neither was I or your brother. Who are you really mad at?"

She bit her lip, glaring at him. She knew what he was doing now yet felt powerless in her reaction, the exact reaction that she knew he wanted. He was pushing her and that was the only fact that aided her in fighting him.

"Who, Leia?" He asked, stepping toward her and placing his hands on her shoulders. She wore a Jedi robe that one of the Masters had wrapped around her upon her arrival at the Temple and his touch was muted by the heavy, coarse fabric. "Who are you really mad at?" He whispered, pressing her just far enough where she finally felt herself break.

"Everyone!" She shouted as she twisted and shrugged off his contact. The word had come from deep within her bowels tore from her without her consent breaking free her restraint and releasing everything that hid behind it. "At you," she spit at him. "At me, at them, whoever _they_ are, and at _him_. At him the most," she said, her voice cracking. "Because he has the most to bear. Because he can bear the most, as he always has."

"Do you think- _really think -_ that your father had anything to do with your mother's death?"

She turned away from him, her eyebrows knitting in concentration, his question wound around deep within her while she tried to pick it apart and find its answer. "No," she replied softly.

She felt him approaching her, felt his hands on her shoulders once again offering her his strength. "You've been pushing your brother away because of your father and now you're pushing your father away because of something that you don't even think that he did. You're pushing me away..."

He didn't say that it was because he loved her, but they both heard it just the same. She shook her head. She was tired and she was beginning to feel the pressure of tears at the back of her throat. There would be no more tears today. "I appreciate what you're doing, but right now I just need to know that you're on my side," she said, her back still to him.

His fingers began to knead at the flesh of her shoulders, arms and neck. She rolled her head to the side, allowing him to rub the remnants of the day away with merely his touch. Turning in his arms, she looked up at him. Wordlessly, he began to undo the clasps on her Jedi robe. When he had slid the cape off her of her shoulders, revealing the dress that she wore underneath, it was more than just the exposure of her skin that changed the atmosphere in the room. "I'm always on your side," he said softly.

"I really just..." She left the thought unfinished in the air. She really just wanted him. Him to take it all away for her, him to figure it out for her, him to tell her that it would all be alright. Just him.

He tossed the heavy garment to the side and commenced in trailing his hands and fingertips against the smooth planes of her skin. "I told your father something there, something that I've been wanting to tell you."

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the movement of his hands, on the gentle waves that were his Force signature - that were his love. The love she had already felt and known weeks before he had uttered those words to her father, probably before he had formed them into any kind of coherent thought of his own.

"Look at me, Leia."

She drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes to him.

"I love you."

She reached up and pressed her fingers against his mouth as if trying to capture the words he had said or at least determine where they came from or what they might feel like against the tips of her fingers, to feel their texture against her skin. Her eyes darted back and forth as she studied his face: his nose, his lips, his chin and then back to his eyes - to him. "I love you, too," she whispered and was rewarded with a slow crooked grin in response. "There's..." She hesitated, of all the times she thought about telling him, she could never imagine the right time, place or words for it. "There's some things I need to tell you."

This time he reached up and pressed his fingers to her lips. "It'll keep," he said. "You've said all I needed to hear."

She watched him silently for a moment, noticed the change in the color of his eyes as they darkened with a vision of something he was yet imagining would come. It was not difficult for her to get swept up in his thoughts, wrapped up in the cocoon of emotions that was his desperate desire for her. Smoothly and fluidly, he pulled her to him and joined them together on a path that would have their bodies soon follow where their minds were already wandering.

* * *

><p>Han Solo was an expert lover, she thought to herself as she surrendered to him. She had no real firsthand knowledge to judge such things or compare anything to, but she knew it all the same. She knew it from the sensation that just the right look from him could coax from her body. Knew it from the way her clothing seemed to melt off of her with merely a touch. Knew it as her untrained hands worked a similar magic as an adept student becomes a skilled master under just the right tutelage. She accepted it fully as the naked skin of her back came into contact with the cool sheets of his hotel room bedding when she couldn't even remember how he had gracefully (stealthily) led her there.<p>

She had been cavalier with their lovemaking up until that moment. Her carefree attitude and unabashed manner had helped even the playing field for her. She had no need of all of that now, no need of that protective layer that had held the act somewhere disconnected from the feelings that had allowed it and accompanied it so naturally now. It was with an intense presence of mind and a heightened sense of anticipation that she readied herself for him at that moment, the moment when they shared a look right before their joining that still seemed to betray their mutual incredulity that this was in fact happening between them. Her body, mind and soul accepted him then; soberly, passionately and completely.

They lay sideways across the hotel room bed moving lazily at first. She stretched her arms above her head and arched her back, offering a feast for his eyes and, soon following, his mouth. She demonstrated her contentment with allowing him the lead in today's endeavor through her satisfied moans and rapid breaths. He bent her legs, using his hands to position her exactly where he wanted, like the tools or spacecraft controls she had witnessed him bending to his will to perform great feats. Just as those inanimate objects offered him no resistance, neither did she. It was in this realm, as it was in the others, that she trusted him completely.

With this new position and technique fully mastered, he drove into her, his body exquisitely pressing against some sensitive spot deep within her and giving birth to an intense warning, a divine kind of threat, of a deeper pleasure which blossomed inside of her and struggled to burst free. It took hold of her, filling in and flooding her insides, replacing and washing away all the past days sorrow, uncertainty and pain with something else, something far more fulfilling and warm. She flung her arms out, her hands, her mind and her eyes desperately grasping for something to hold onto to grant her some tether to the reality of the moment as if her body would disappear into the black void of ardent satisfaction that he was pushing her towards with every magnificent thrust of his hips. The resonance of their bodies crashing together in harsh rhythmic movements, the hard slapping sounds of skin on skin, provided the only soundtrack of her descent into the nothingness that was this unspoken promise of complete ecstasy.

And then it hit her.

She grabbed him by his arms and stared at him with wide eyes while a tumultuous shudder trembled through her gut, her legs, her arms, her scalp and right down her calf muscles to the curling of her toes. Her body was froze tight as her every muscle clenched with magnificent abandon. She had never experienced anything like it before. He had certainly brought her to climax already, repeatedly, but this one was deeper and more profound than any of the others preceding it. She breathed out, surprised that she were still just a mere human being that required such an inconsequential thing as air. Surely what he had just given her, she thought, must've surpassed the need for anything as trivial as life-giving breath.

He slowed his movement inside of her as he watched with great satisfaction the nakedness that must've been her physical reaction. She stared at him in amazement, still not quite feeling in touch with the physical aspect that was their joining. Then, as she came down from that high, she began to feel hyper-aware of every inch of her body with sudden and great clarity, from the tips of her breasts, the flat plane of her belly to the slick skin of her thighs as they slid against his and for the first time she realized what it truly meant to feel sexy. She smiled and arched her back, pressing her hardened nipples against his chest and flaring the pressure of pleasure that had pooled there. He bent down with a long, suffering sound and kissed her soundly as he began to quicken his pace inside of her once again.

They wound up after several exchanges under the covers with him behind her, spooning her in the curve of his body, slipping back inside of her and rocking his hips against her backside. Every muscle of her body was limp with exhaustion and her brain wondered casually about the joy of death brought about by an overwhelming sense of contentment and satisfaction. Should a body die upon reaching a point where its every need was identified and satisfied, then she would meet her end at that moment, she was sure. She curled her spine against his form and sunk into the familiar sensation and cadence that was his own quest for fulfillment. It was all that she could concentrate on, the steady in and out of his body with hers and the feel of him flirting with the tingling threat of his climax made her insides quiver and reignite with their own desperate dance of more promised pleasure.

He clasped his hands at her breasts, drawing her body against him so that his breath was in her ear. She felt the hot wave of his moan, the frozen hardness of his body as his every muscle tensed, and the full-bodied shudder that signaled his release. She straightened her body to press fully against his chest, raising her arm to wrap around his neck and turning her face to kiss him. It was awkward and desperate and she could feel the aftershocks of his orgasm making his muscles jump against her and within her. She pulled back, looked him in the eye and then turned her head away. He curled his arms around her and held him to her, and then they were still. She could feel him shrinking and fading inside of her and she wished that he would never have to leave, that he could stay inside of her forever.

They lay that way for a long while, her back pressed against him and his nose in her hair. "I love you, Leia," he finally said into her ear, the words made more of breath than voice.

She turned around in his arms, the last of their connection slipping away almost painfully. Then she looked up at him, resting her hand on the side of his face. Dragging her thumb along his lower lip until he kissed it, and then she whispered, "I love you, too."


	78. Chapter 78

It is Your Destiny…

_The Galactic Arms Hotel, Coruscant_

Han sat next to Leia at the small table of his hotel suite. After ordering breakfast in, the pair sat enjoying the holo-display view of downtown Coronet that Han had selected, and ate together quietly. Watching as one of Leia's small hands stuck out from the rolled up sleeve of her oversized robe and held up a bright red, ripened melon berry, Han bent forward and accepted it in his mouth. She watched him as he enjoyed the sweet and tangy burst of flavor from the imported delicacy as if studying a marvel of science. He wondered what she truly thought of him, not really understanding what he might look like through her eyes. It seemed to him that their love had sprouted up out of nowhere, like a garden in the middle of a snowdrift on Hoth. It was as real as anything that he had ever felt, but he found it hard to accept that Leia might feel the same or that she could be affected as strongly as him.

They had not dined together since their time onboard the _Eclipse_. And they had never eaten together like this. It lent a certain amount of legitimacy to their relationship, he thought. Although still sequestered away in the confines of his hotel room, they were sharing this mundane ritual and moment together like any real couple would. He wondered if the words real and couple ever entered into her mind when thinking of him. Perhaps he was just another way for her to snub her nose at the Jedi credos and codes? She had certainly taken every credo and code the old Han Solo had lived by in regards to women and thrown them on their ear. He looked at her and she smiled shyly. If he had thought she was dangerous as a Jedi, she was even more so as a woman.

But none of that mattered, none of it. Not his misgivings or his uncertainty and _that_ was the thing; the unarticulated, undefined thing that was the difference between her and every other woman in the galaxy as far as he was concerned. She made him feel, at his most vulnerable and confused, the most protected and safe. Her love for him was like trying to calculate the hows and whys of the massive heat of the Tatooine suns. The evidence was there, like the warmth on his skin or the pink tinge on people's noses, it was real even if one couldn't define it. He wondered if she felt the same.

That they should probably talk about all of these things did cross his mind near incessantly, yet when they were together it all seemed to pass between the two of them unspoken and understood. Besides, there was so much more to talk about than his insecurities or want of absolute possession of her. Is that what he wanted, he wondered to himself, to possess her? He had a feeling she wouldn't like that but an even more earnest feeling that she absolutely would.

"A cred for your thoughts," she whispered next to him.

He shook his head, looking at her. "I happen to know that you don't have any creds on you," he said lightly. "How're you feeling?"

She smiled at him, staring at him openly. His deflection of her probing always seemed to amuse her. That was unlike most women as well. He feared that it was because she already knew what he was thinking through her Force sense or whatever. He feared it, yet relied on it to save him from having to voice all those things that he didn't want to have to say anyway. "I'm…" She stopped as if searching for the right word. "_Processing_ everything that's happened, I guess," she said, her gaze dropping down to the table.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Her eyes came back to his. "About what, exactly?" She said with wry amusement. "Which part?"

He shrugged. "Any of it."

"I don't know. I almost hate to give voice to it. I don't want any of it to be true. I don't want to believe the galaxy is capable of anything that it has done to me within the last year. Save you."

He smiled at her. "I don't know what to say about your mother, but…I still think you've got your father pegged all wrong."

"It's odd that you are so adamant about that."

"Hey, you can have your Force sense stuff and I can't question it. Well, can't I have my gut feelings, too?"

"I've never said you couldn't question my Force senses."

He halted at her claim, at first not recognizing it as true but then immediately realizing that it, in fact, was. Was it only him that felt restrained by her abilities? "Alright, well," he said, floundering with these new thoughts. "You know what I mean."

She studied him for a small moment and appeared ready to press the issue but then, with a shake of her head, seemed to let it go. "Yes, I know what you mean," she said softly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought that she saw it even more clearly than he did.

"Anyway," he continued. "I think you should hear your father out. I mean, the guy used to rise and set in your eyes."

Her eyes darted to him swiftly as if he had just hit a nerve.

"What?" He asked, replaying his last words over again in his mind, searching for the specific word or phrase that might've needled her.

"It's just funny that you would say that," she replied with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"Why?"

"Because it's so true." She shook her head again, smiling but it was a smile masking a deeper emotion. Han felt as if they were dancing around the facts, as if they both saw each other so clearly, yet were unable to put the entire picture together into a complete thought. She could see him and all of his insecurities and needs and he could see her with her blind steadfastness and reckless courage. "I can't lose him, really," she said. "I know I can't. It would just be the end of it all. And I guess that fear is what has me in…defensive mode."

"Pushing him away before he pushes you down."

She nodded her head, her eyes blinking the tears away that he pretended not to notice.

"That's an old trick I'm way too familiar with," he whispered.

"I've never seen that side of you."

He opened his mouth to say something but the thoughts would not form into words. He wanted to tell her that it was because she had seen a side of him that no one else had, but that wasn't entirely true - she had only _not _seen a side of him that others had. There was a difference. After a long pause, he finally said, "It's there." He watched as her big, brown watery eyes looked up at him with heightened interest, but when he pressed his lips together preparing himself for her inquiry, a faint smile crossed her lips, her features relaxed and she seemed once again content with letting it go.

"We're quite a pair, you and me," she said lightly.

He didn't feel the need to respond, feeling as if she were only priming herself to say more.

Leia's features sobered and she rested her elbows on the table as she leaned closer to him. "Han," she started and then hesitated a moment, her eyes darting back and forth between his. "Would you ever be afraid to tell me something? Something that you would think I wouldn't understand or forgive you for?"

"I," he began, wondering what she could be referring to. In his experience a question such as that meant one of two things: either she had discovered something about him and was fishing for his confession or she had something of her own to confess and was testing the waters of his mood. "I guess-" At that moment the holograph of Coronet City flickered, signaling an incoming holocall and, in effect, cutting Han off. He stood up abruptly, holding his finger out to her. "Hold that thought," he said as he crossed the room, placed a headset on his head and took the call on voice only.

Han listened as Airen Cracken's assistant confirmed the details of their upcoming meeting. He watched Leia across the room; she was looking down at her plate and moving her food around with her fork. From where she sat and from his vantage point, it looked as if she were sitting in a café on the streets of his old homeworld. He thought that he would like to take her there and share a meal like this one at a real restaurant. There, on the streets of Coronet City, they would talk like real people and they wouldn't dance around issues that neither one of them wanted to face. In that world he would bend on his knee and ask her to marry him and without a second thought she would wrap her arms around his shoulders and give him his answer in fervent kisses. There would be no Jedi, or Empire or Sith and it would only be their happiness and future that they would have to consider. In that world.

His thoughts went back to his earlier concerns regarding their relationship and all that remained left unsaid between them. This was the world in which they lived, it would do no good to imagine it otherwise. And as he stood there huddled on his holocall, still hiding her presence and swallowing his unanswered questions, her recent inquiry took on a more dangerous edge. He thought it as a testament of their love, all that they could leave unsaid between them. But what if it wasn't? Slowly, as one might take apart a magic trick, the beautiful illusion of Coronet City turned hollow and cruel to him before his eyes. The world that he imagined fell away until all he could see was the optical lighting that made the fantasy possible bouncing off the far wall of the hotel room and back at him in distorted curves and lines. He blinked and turned away from it as he finished up his call.

* * *

><p>He returned to the table in silence, his mood solemn. Neither one of them acknowledged the break in their conversation, although neither one of them continued it either. She had asked him a strange question and the only thing he wanted more than to have it answered, was to completely forget that she had asked it. The contradiction left his insides feeling twisted and he could not bring himself to finish his breakfast.<p>

Leia's head had been down, she was still studying her plate and the table and when she looked back up at him her expression had changed; it was more serious than sad. "What about your transfer? What will we do about that?"

He drew in a breath. This was something that he could talk about, even though, it was still just more bad news. "There's nothing we _can_ do about it," he replied, knowing that this upcoming meeting with Cracken would probably end with him being sent away from her. That thought had him thinking of her future. "Any idea on what the Jedi will have up their sleeves for you now?"

She shook her head and her fork clattered against the table as she dropped it and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. She was shaking her head as if mentally struggling to keep something at bay. It was as if the thought of discussing their futures as two separate topics was too much for her to bear on top of everything else. He understood her pain and frustration, yet there was nothing he could do to fix it. Then, as her shoulders heaved forward with a choked sob, her tenuous grip on her emotions seemed to slip free from her grasp and she made a sound that sounded like heartache itself.

Han pushed his chair away from the table hurriedly and leaned over to wrap his arm around her. She leaned into him, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder and allowing her tears to run free. He held her without comment, stroking the line of her arm with his hand and feeling his heart wrench with every strangled sob that wrestled itself free from her. She had been through so much that he wondered how she had not broken in two already. Everything else fell away at that moment, all fears and futures and anxieties and he thought only of soothing and mending her. He pulled her closer, knowing what he wanted to do now but not knowing how to do it.

After indulging in that brief lapse, she began wiping her eyes and visibly calming herself, yet she still remained pressed against him. "Someone once told me about a life full of torture and pain and I couldn't imagine it to be possible," she said, her voice thick with tears. "I see how easily it can be that way now. I almost can't remember the person I was when I had doubted the mere possibility of its existence."

He thought as he held her that he had fallen in love with that person inside of her; that pure naive being that had thought the best of the worlds. But it was not only that side of her, he amended, it was that side of her along with all the rest. Along with the confident minx that had planted her foot on his chest and told him not to look so smug upon their first night together. Along with the sly subordinate that had argued him into a cockpit and allowed him to win over the respect and admiration of his men. Right beside the wanton woman that continued to enchant and overwhelm him in his bed. The innocent girl that could read his innermost thoughts with a magical flicker of her mind. And the trickster charlatan that had him not minding any of it, at all, not even one tiny bit. And so there, against the manufactured backdrop of Coronet City, he pressed his lips ever-so-gently against her head and kissed her, all of her, softly.

She pulled away from him and looked at him then and he could tell that she wanted something from him, needed something from him at that moment, although he wasn't quite sure what. He took her face in his hands, rubbed the tracks of tears away with his thumbs and then kissed her forehead, her cheek, her jaw. When he finally made it to her mouth, she willingly accepted a kiss from him. It was a slow, lingering kiss, a kiss of comfort and compassion and he felt her searching for the serenity that he offered within it.

As her body relaxed against him and the shudders of the aftermath of her sobbing subsided, as she began to return his kiss with an increased fervor and exultation, he knew that she had found what she was searching for and that she would find it nowhere else but in his arms. And that gave meaning to his life more so than any magnificent victory, flight maneuver or military title he ever had. Once again he felt oddly strange, as if that stray thought should've been abhorrent or at the very least frightening to him, but it was not. He was happy and so was she, in the midst of all the torture and pain she had not thought possible. He was her bright spot of joy and she his. And that was more than enough. What more was there to figure out?


	79. Chapter 79

_Thanks to my beta readers: Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter._

* * *

><p><em>It is Your Destiny…<em>

_The Jedi Temple Gardens, Coruscant_

"We have no reason to hold him. The Naboo military has already confirmed, quite undoubtedly, that he was not on planet at the time."

Leia didn't look at Mace Windu as they walked along the meandering paths outside of the Jedi Temple. She was still trying to catalogue all the feelings that were stirring inside of her. "Didn't they at least want to speak to him? Aren't they investigating her murder at all?" She asked.

"Apparently he traveled to Naboo first and has already been interviewed and released." Master Windu stopped and Leia followed suit. "Leia, it worries me that you have such strong suspicions regarding your father."

"It's not suspicions, so much," she replied. "As a want for absolute justice. I would expect them to interview me if I had no alibi or other proof of my whereabouts."

"Yes, but you would have no motive. What motive would you find in your father?"

"The motive that he wasn't there and he was supposed to be," she hesitated. "He had me and Luke _feeling_ as if he was there. What was the point in misleading us? Was he merely trying to pacify Luke and me?"

"Yes," another voice answered her. It was her father's voice. She and Mace turned to the side to find him approaching. In addition to everything else that her father was doing, he continued to 'disappear' in the Force. "I was," Anakin added as he came to stand next to them.

"Anakin," Master Windu greeted Leia's father as he shook his hand.

"Master Windu," Anakin replied. "Leia."

Leia did not respond but merely drew a deep breath in as she studied him.

"I think I'll leave you two alone to talk," Mace said inclining his head to include both of the Skywalkers in his polite leave-taking.

Leia stood there on the graveled path, her eyes studying each and every pebble spread before her feet. She did not know what she wanted to say to her father, only that she knew there was something that she needed to convey. She didn't think it was her anger any longer, all of that had been unleashed the night before. It wasn't her suspicion of him; she knew full well that he had a good understanding of that. Perhaps it was her disappointment with him, she thought. But she knew he knew of that as well.

"I'm worried about you, Leia," he said after he allowed her that prolonged silence.

She pulled her eyes up to look at him and it felt as if she were pulling something of immense weight along with them. When her gaze finally rested upon the man that had been her hero, she felt the twisted, mangled, womp rat's nest of emotions that had been huddled inside of her wrench apart and break free. She clenched her teeth at the onslaught of it, swallowing back the rising lump of tears in her throat. "I'm afraid you have lost the right to worry about me," she said slowly.

"Maybe I have."

"Where were you?" She asked again, the question stale and worn from her overuse of it.

"I have already answered that question."

"You call your continued evasion an answer?" She replied.

"It is the only form of answer I can offer you at this time."

"Who are you protecting?"

He shook his head, not as if in denial that he was protecting anyone but in assurance that he would never betray whomever he was protecting.

"Is it another woman?" Leia couldn't believe that the question had risen in her mind and even worse that she had allowed it to find voice. She could not believe it to be true yet she was driven now to know it more as an absolute truth then some out-dated belief she had once held regarding the man standing in front of her.

For the first time she saw a crack in the façade of her father's solemn expression. "No, although that is not a question which you have the right to ask. But since you have, I will tell you that your mother knew, as she faced her unjustified death," he said, his voice cracking slightly and his gaze drifting off as if he were imagining the unimaginable moment that signified his greatest loss. "She knew that I was with her in every way, shape and form except in that which I could've physically protected her. I shall have to live with that for the rest of my life, but I will not accept the added burden of any other hint of betrayal to her."

"And what of your betrayal to me? And to the Order?"

"My betrayal to you," he said. "Is one that you shall have to work out on your own. My betrayal to the _Order_," he whispered, as if contemplating _it_ more heavily, "shall become evident in its own time."

"So you acknowledge that you have strayed?"

"I have never denied that."

"This is more than challenging some outdated doctrines. What exactly are you talking about now? Or is it your sole intention towards me to remain ambiguous?"

"Ambiguity stems from that which we do not have enough information to form an opinion on. I feel certain that you have more than enough knowledge regarding me and my principles, my goals and my vision to draw your own conclusions regarding all that seems to have you so upset with me."

"Well you're sadly mistaken," she said coolly. "I feel as if I don't even know you anymore."

He shut his eyes. "And for that, I am most disappointed in you." Opening his eyes, he studied her for a moment. "If, with your words today coupled with your actions of yesterday, you meant to wound me, you can sleep well tonight knowing that you have accomplished that task."

"My intentions are never to hurt another, Father," she stated. "Whatever you're feeling regarding me, you have done that on your own. And I will not sleep well knowing that you are suffering, but I cannot soothe your pain without understanding first from where it derives."

He breathed heavily as if in resignation. "My pain shall not be your concern for much longer."

"So you're running again?"

He looked at her dubiously, as if she had misunderstood his statement. But then his expression changed and he asked, "Would you have me stay?"

"Yes," she said, her voice rising.

"And for what purpose?" He asked, as if reading her mind. "As a prisoner? As the scapegoat for whatever decay is spreading across this galaxy now? As the only man you can imagine as responsible for your mother's murder?"

"I don't think you're responsible."

He nodded his head as if pleased for at least one positive admission from her.

"I don't know what you are," she said, the wisps of ideas that followed the statement trailed off into the wind unvoiced. "But I intend to find out."

He nodded again like one nods to accept a challenge.

"How did you come to me aboard the _Eclipse_? How is it that both Luke and I felt you on Naboo? Where do you go when you…disappear in the Force?"

"These are the first questions that you have the right to ask of me," he said.

"Then answer them."

He drew in a deep breath. "I've already given you the answer, long ago."

"You tell me that I have the right to ask and yet you still refuse to answer. And then you have the gall to talk about your pain?"

"My pain is my own," he said, his voice soft with no hint of severity or reprimand. "I am confident that you will follow my path, you before and above anyone else. But it shall be your own journey and not on the heels of mine…as I had once envisioned."

"Back…onboard the _Eclipse_, Luke said you were turning to the Dark Side and I refused to believe him."

"And what do you think now?"

"I think I wish that was still the only thing I had to worry about. I wish _that_ fear was the most horrible thing that I could envision as it was back then. But now it seems insignificant and childish in light of everything else."

Her father smirked as if amused.

"Have I said something funny? Is this all a joke to you? Does my pain and confusion amuse you?"

His smirk turned into a smile, a tired, sad smile. "I'll ask you to remember one thing. It may seem irrelevant but it is the answer to all of your questions regarding me," he said. "_I _am not your enemy, Leia."

She stood watching him thinking that he intended to elaborate on that thought. When it became apparent that he would not, she frowned and tried to analyze his words for further meaning. She shook her head, it seemed as if a message of another sort was hidden within their meaning but she could not uncover it.

Anakin reached a hand out and grasped her by the shoulder; he was looking down at her as if in full understanding of what her silence meant. "The truth doesn't need interpretation. Consider this: when you stumble across something and cannot find any hidden meaning in it, perhaps what you have found is the truth."

She looked up at him and she felt like the young girl that had once seen only her idol and mentor in those eyes and in that face. "I don't think I can handle…" She stopped and swallowed, before whispering, "Your fall."

He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly and holding her head to his chest. "That's where you're wrong, Leia. You can handle anything. You're stronger than you give yourself credit and when the time comes, you will find that strength. I have no doubt in you."

Leia closed her eyes and in those words, his final words, she found some hint of something. It seemed as if in the space between where her father held no doubt and she harbored so much doubt was where all of her problems lived. She could not fathom the bridge that would span over the chasm that currently separated the two. She knew only one thing for sure, that whatever it might be, the journey would have to be made. She knew that more than ever now for her father was the future of the Jedi Order, for better or worse wherever he went the Jedi were soon to follow. And so would she.


	80. Chapter 80

It is Your Destiny…

_Airen Cracken's Office, Republic Intelligence Building, Coruscant_

Han took a seat across the desk from Airen Cracken. He watched as his commanding officer shuffled some flimsiplasts around on his desk while his assistant left the room. When the door slid shut behind her, leaving the two men alone, Airen looked up at Han and studied him for a long moment as if he were meeting Han for the first time or at least seeing him in a different light. "I guess we can leave most of this unsaid," he stated, leaning back in his chair casually.

Han sat with his back straight and his hands resting on the arms of his chair. He didn't like being reprimanded; he hated even more owing someone – anyone - anything. But the way Airen had said the words hadn't been in a manner of reproach or intimidation. Han relaxed, pressing his back against the cushion of the chair and folding one leg over the knee of the other. "I'd appreciate that."

"I did everything I could for you. You were lucky to keep your rank and pay."

"There's nothing _official_ on the books about this, right?"

Cracken paused for a moment, seeming to consider Han's words and perhaps his response to them. "No," he said carefully while sitting up in his chair and reaching for more paperwork. "You were lucky there, too. Your whistleblower was none too cooperative: really out for blood that one was."

Han raised his chin, craning his neck to read whatever he could of the forms that Airen was looking at. "I guess you have no intention of telling me who I owe this favor to?"

"No," Airen replied pointedly while taking one particular form and sitting back to study it. "I don't need assault charges added to your bill."

"Nothing like that, I'd just like to know."

"No," Cracken stated again, even more firmly than before, squelching any other ideas that Han had of pressing the issue. Then, as if in further confirmation of his point, Airen moved on – changing the subject. "Okay, let's see here," he said, reading the flimsiplast in his hand. "You understand Huttese, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Well," Cracken said lightly. "Let's try your luck on Nar Shaddaa then, shall we?"

* * *

><p>Han headed to the spaceport to meet Chewie at the <em>Millennium Falcon<em>. It was the one thing that made all the rest of it more tolerable. He would be flying his ship again and arguing with an ancient Wookiee that had a perfect sense of direction, excellent mechanical aptitude and a good sense of humor. All of that and he didn't drink Han's whiskey either. By the time he had reached the old ship, Han's mood had brightened.

He had only been to Nar Shaddaa a few times before, but it was one of his favorite planets. Much like Coruscant, it was entirely urbanized, just one big city as far as the eye could see. But it was more relaxed (less uptight) than the Capital world. The sentient beings on Nar Shaddaa didn't take themselves so seriously; they didn't take rules and laws too seriously either. On the Smuggler's Moon, as it was called, good times and free flowing liquor and creds ruled the day (and night). After months at the command of his own squad, Han couldn't think of a better place to head to.

When he arrived at the _Falcon_ it was as if he and Chewie hadn't spent a moment apart. Han walked right up, grabbed the nearest hydrospanner and got to work. His first mate seemed unperturbed by the turn of events but perhaps even happily satisfied with them. Chewbacca loved flying around on the _Falcon_ just as much as Han did, apparently. Han was thankful for the Wookiee's infectious resilence as it seemed to buffet his already uplifted mood. He was chin deep in the access bay of his ship, hungry, grease-stained and cheerfully resolved by the time he heard a female voice calling from the entryway.

"Han?"

"In here," he called. _Leia_. Han watched the turn of his hydospanner with a tightening of his chest. Leia was the only thing that made leaving Coruscant difficult. He had mixed emotions about where their relationship might be headed. A secret part of him thought that some separation might do them both good. In some ways he felt that they needed to find their own way before they could go anywhere together. It was something he didn't quite understand, at least not its entire meaning, he was sure. But he felt it rather strongly and that made him feel guilty. It felt as if he were running even though he knew that that wasn't the case.

"Hey," Leia said softly as she entered the lounge and approached him.

"Hello, beautiful," he said, the words spilling out of him before he even realized it. He couldn't recall ever calling someone that before. He had told women they were beautiful, sure, but never called them that. As she walked closer to him and he continued to take her all in, he couldn't blame himself for the slip.

"You like it?" She asked, blushing a little and twirling her hips slightly. The motion made the dress she was wearing swirl around her knees. Han had seen her in a dress three times now. The first time he had been unable to touch her, the second he had been interrupted by her father and the third – he intended to take full advantage of. His somber thoughts of their impending separation took a more lustful turn.

"I like it so much I'm almost tempted to leave it on you," he said with cool aplomb.

"_Almost?_" She replied innocently.

"Almost," he repeated as a wicked grin spread across his lips while he climbed out of the engineering bay.

"Stop," she squealed as he approached her with an intention even a blind man could recognize. "Your hands are dirty," she chastised as he moved to embrace her.

When he was close enough to her she planted her palms on his chest and held him at arms' length. "My lips aren't," he drawled suggestively as he bent his head toward hers and immediately felt the pressure of her hands against him weaken.

She tilted her head and eyed him warily with a look that told him that it wouldn't take much more convincing to have her relent.

"What are you afraid of?" He teased. "A little dirty laundry?"

She applied more pressure against his chest. "It took me an hour to do my hair."

His eyes left her face and chest and studied the top of her head for a moment. "It looks real nice."

"Han," she said, drawing out his name as if in defeat as her elbows bent and she allowed him closer to her.

"Leia," he replied between nips at her neck, ear and throat careful not to touch her with any other part of his sweat and grease-stained body.

"You need a shower and we need to talk," she stated firmly as she bent her head to the side and allowed him complete access to wherever he wanted to go.

He wanted to run his hands up her skirt, pull at the straps of her dress and feel himself inside of her, but he refrained, not wanting to mar her perfectly clean body or stain her soft, cotton dress. It took all he had to calm himself. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder and growled. "I hate it when you're right."

"Get used to it," she said glibly as she kissed the side of his head and quickly turned out of his arms, taking a few steps away from him. "I got your message. You have your new assignment?"

She stood near the curved corridor and he took a moment looking at her again before he answered. It was much harder thinking about leaving her when she was there with him. When she was standing there, looking the way she looked and smelling the way she always smelled - he could think of nothing else but staying. "They're sending me to Nar Shaddaa," he sighed. "Tracking down some shipping records. Seems the Empire is funneling large amounts of credits and parts through Hutt space. We're gonna try and find out what they're up to."

"I guess they should get points for tenacity."

He approached her, couldn't resist bending down to feel the cool, plump softness of her cheek against his lips. "Yeah," he agreed and then turned to head toward his quarters, confident that she would follow. "Seems nothing short of genocide will ever stop 'em," he said, slipping out of his shirt and throwing it against the far wall. The sooner he was showered, the sooner he could get dirty again.

She had followed him into his quarters and her eyes tracked to the pile of clothes he was creating in the corner.

It wasn't until he was standing in nothing but his underwear that he realized she hadn't answered him. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I just," she stopped, her eyes finally leaving the pile of laundry and looking back to him. "That's a pretty bleak outlook."

"Sorry," he said as he stepped into the small 'fresher and began to wash his hands. "I tend to call 'em like I see 'em." It was the honest truth, in his assessment, the Empire would never resove themselves to make true peace with the Republic.

"Right," she replied, raising her voice a little so that he could hear her over the running water.

"So what about you?" He asked, turning to face her as he dried his hands on a towel. "You catch any heat from the Masters?"

"None yet, but they've been busy with my father. I'm sure they'll find their opportunity since they've ordered Luke and me to remain at the Temple for recuperation and contemplation."

"Sounds right up your alley," he replied, stepping back into his quarters. Something about the way she looked, besides the hair and the dress, made him not want to leave her alone, not even to shower. "I think you might fit in one of my compartments," he teased.

By the time he finished speaking he had made his way across the room to stand before her. She lifted her chin to look up at him but he noticed that her eyes lingered just a little too longingly at the planes of his bare chest. This was torturing her just as much as it was him and he enjoyed that realization immensely. "You'd be surprised just how tempted I am to take you up on that," she said, her words more breathy than their message woud've called for.

"Nah, I know how irresistible you find me." He was not talking about any vague notion that he could reflect back on, but to the silent war going on behind those deep, darkened eyes right then at that very moment. He took his now clean hands and ran the backs of his fingers along her jawline. She closed her eyes.

"Will you come back to Coruscant when you're done?" She asked, her eyes still closed as if that made her question, and its confirmation of his departure, less real.

"That's the plan," he whispered. "Will you be here waiting for me?"

She opened her eyes. "That's the plan."

When she ran her hands up his chest and over his body, he knew that she no longer cared about her dress or her hair. And when he returned the kiss that she offered him, he could no longer remember why he had thought it might be a good idea to leave her.


	81. Chapter 81

It is Your Destiny…

_Coruscant_

Master Tiin stood in front of the auditorium of Jedi and outlined the Republic's plans, his voice echoing from the stoned floor to the high ceiling. Newly uncovered intel following the destruction of the superweapon suggested that the Empire was now under the control of an alien, incredibly (but reportedly) a Chiss. The news was met with great discussion and debate. The Imperials' hatred of all things alien was infamous and the idea that they were taking direction from a blue-skinned, red-eyed non-human seemed preposterous. Tiin adroitly fielded several questions and at the same time kept his practiced speech hurrying along.

Luke, standing deep in the crowds of fidgeting Jedi, rolled his eyes. Perhaps his sister had been right. She had been complaining on their walk over that the Jedi were in danger of becoming puppets to the Republic, confusing the good of the government with the good of the people. She had always had a keen eye on political issues. The way she explained it, Luke could almost envision the hand of the Chief of State moving the Masters around like dejarik pieces.

Tiin spoke of regrouping, of the Jedi assisting in the revitalization of Coruscant and acting as ambassadors throughout the Republic's aligned worlds. The way he spun it, it sounded very charitable and innocuous. But in the light of his sister's previous observations, it did make the Jedi appear partisan and biased to the needs of the institution of the Republic instead of to its constituents and to the galactic populace as a whole, regardless of allegiances.

Luke frowned, wishing that Master Yoda was present, but the old Jedi was ill. Luke had thought that he understood Master Tiin to be quite capable and worldly in his way of thinking, especially since it had been him that stood aside and allowed the Jedi Squadron to decide for itself to follow Han and go against direct orders. But now it seemed as if Luke had misjudged Tiin or that Tiin had somehow changed since his return to the Temple. The idea settled uncomfortably in his stomach; something about it all not sitting right with him, but he was not able to entirely figure it all out.

"What did I tell you?" Leia whispered out of the side of her mouth as she stood next to him in the crowd. She was more intractable and excitable than usual. Luke suspected that the departure of both their father and Han Solo had a great deal to do with that.

He shook his head dejectedly. He hadn't wanted to believe her but more and more he began to question his convictions concerning the Jedi Council and the Republic. The murder of his mother had him in a tailspin and it was all he could do to organize his thoughts from second to second much less catalogue all the evidence and pass judgment on anything. He just wanted to go back to the way it was when all he had to worry about was keeping Leia out of trouble and covering for her shenanigans. For all the bellyaching he had done back then it seemed like a lost paradise to him now.

"What of the investigation into the happenings on Naboo?" Leia asked as Tiin paused for questions.

Tiin hesitated, staring at Leia for a moment as if sizing her up. "It has been established that the attack on Naboo was merely a false parry as was suspected. There will be no further investigation into the matter beyond that. Our job now is to move and look forward. We will lick our wounds and prepare for the Empire's inevitable response."

Luke crinkled his brow yet again. He wondered why the Master sounded so sure of the Empire's intentions; even the Republic was doubtful that the Imperials would regroup straight away.

"And of my mother's death?" His sister pressed.

At least for this question, Luke noted, Tiin appeared affected. The mention of Padme Skywalker traveled like a ripple of grief and disbelief through the crowd. "Her tragic and unjustified death has been ruled as part of that parry," Tiin said, his voice grave and apologetic.

"Ruled by whom?" Leia replied.

"The Naboo military and the Galactic Republic both have filed reports as to the events of the Imperial attack on Naboo," Mace Windu interjected.

"I know, I've read them and my mother's death is no more than a footnote," Leia accused. "My question is to you, the Masters: what have the Jedi discovered about her death?"

Luke knew, as did Leia, that news of Sith involvement was being suppressed by the Republic for fear of mass hysteria and dissention. But a Sith attack was Jedi business, or at least it should've been if the Council was an independent as they liked to claim.

"The Queen and the Chief of State-," Tiin started but Leia interrupted him.

"So it _is_ exactly as my father feared?" She fumed.

It was no secret to Luke that Leia had argued with and overall lost faith in their father. Luke, on the other hand, had barely spoken to the man, unable to process exactly what it was that he would want to say. It seemed that he had lashed out at Han instead for all the darkness he felt closing in all around him. He realized now that Han hadn't been the appropriate, but merely the _easiest,_ target to unleash his impotent fury upon.

Master Tiin stood mutely, seeming to struggle for the proper rejoinder to Leia's question. Leia, Luke thought, hadn't said anything, really. 'What her father feared' could be construed a thousand different ways by each and every being that had heard her, for Anakin Skywalker was not limited to merely one opinion on the matter of the Jedi.

"I've heard enough," Leia grumbled before Tiin had a chance to say anything at all and then she turned and barreled her way through the crowd and toward the exit doors.

Luke took only a moment to study the Masters intently, trying to read their reactions to the best of his ability. When Tiin began speaking again, deciding not to address Leia's comment at all, Luke turned around himself and headed off after his sister. At his mother's death he had seen a turning point in the horizon and he had scrambled to place blame on anyone but himself. Han had been the unlucky recipient of that endeavor. However, now, with days and days of living with the consequences of this new situation behind him, Luke was beginning to recognize an ugly pattern in his life. He saw himself as his sister and Han Solo might see him; as someone who fails to take action yet easily criticizes those who do. He had been so busy concentrating on controlling his sister and determining the fate of his father that he had neglected the solemn task of concerning himself with his own actions and reflection. When he finally took the time to look inward, he cringed at what he saw. But it was not too late to change it, he knew; it was never too late to move forward.

"I don't know if I can stay here, Luke," Leia said as soon as he had joined her on the steps of the Temple. She stood with her emotions and her muscles clenched, like a tightly wound spring just bursting to pop free.

"Where would you go?"

"I don't know."

"I already miss the squad," Luke said. Along with Han's transfer, the Republic had dismantled the StealthX squad indefinitely, citing that it had served its purpose and would be called upon again only when necessary. Luke looked back on the days aboard the _Eclipse_ with a wistful fondness.

"The squad was good," Leia replied. "Good times…for awhile."

Luke had heard the rumors, the reasons behind Han's transfer and he understood that if he had found happiness and camaraderie aboard the _Eclipse_, his sister had found a great deal more. If the story of her message was to be believed, she had found her soulmate. He felt guilty that he had begrudged her that not so long ago. He would still hold his reservations about the situation as a whole, but he could not resent his sister's joy any longer. His mother's death had begun to shed a different light on things for him. _Life_ had suddenly become more precious than being right.

"Han and I," she started, not looking at him as she spoke. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors. Father knows as well."

Luke wondered how _that_ had come about during his sister's and his father's arguing and how it had gone over. "It was probably inevitable," he replied.

"I made sure of that, didn't I?" She said lightly.

"I'm sure you had good reason."

She laughed. "You're mellowing in your old age."

"Probably."

She looked at him. "It suits you."

"Well, it turns out that righteous indignation isn't as fun as it sounds."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "You sure gave it your best shot, though."

"Well, we Skywalkers weren't raised to do anything half-heartedly, were we?"

Leia bit her lip as if stopping herself from replying right away. "Have you ever thought about how we were raised?"

Luke shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. How do you mean?"

"I mean why Father even sent us to the Jedi Temple at all. Why didn't he keep us all to himself? Purist to the Anakin Skywalker way of thinking and studying the Force? It would've seemed to serve his purpose better."

"_You've figured out his purpose?_" He returned, mock incredulous.

"I don't know. It just seems counterproductive. If he planned on snubbing the Jedi all along, wouldn't we have been the perfect instruments to do just that?"

"Maybe he never planned to snub the Jedi."

"That's all he ever did."

"But was that his purpose?"

Leia looked down thoughtfully. "I always saw him as fighting and challenging the Jedi and perhaps the Force." She looked as if she were remembering something. "I once told him that I thought he had lost his way, that he had confused his issues with the Council with doubts of his own."

"And what do you think now?" Luke prompted.

"I think I'm the one that confused his issues with the Council with his views of the Force."

"I think you may be right," Luke replied slowly, seeing the reasoning behind her words. It seemed to him that they might both be seeing things more clearly.

"He always saw the Council as distinctly separate from _being _a Jedi and using the Force, which...they are."

Luke watched her. She seemed already far away as if she had not only left their conversation behind but everything else as well. He wished he could follow her, follow her thoughts and find the answers there. But this was where they traditionally diverged. When they were younger he would've recognized this as the expression she normally wore before she got herself into trouble. But now, it only looked like the somber, resolute air that she carried like armor over these last few days, ever since their mother's death. She appeared guarded and untouchable as if she were coated with a film as tough as durasteel yet as imperceptible as the Force itself. It gave her a hardened, worn look that made her look years older than him. He clenched his teeth.

It had all seemed so clear to him growing up: he was to become a Jedi. But he was finding that a Jedi was but one of the many aspects of himself. Not something to become but something that he simply _was_. He was a son, a brother, a soldier _and_ a Jedi. It was up to him to shape himself into something of his own definition, something beyond the naive labels of his youth. His sister had once yearned to be a politician. Did she still harbor such dreams? It was something he no longer knew and suspected she struggled with that question as well.

The Force, the Jedi teachings, his father, none of them provided all the answers to everything, as he had once foolishly assumed. He would have to cultivate his own convictions and determinations and forge a path to a place where he could rely on himself to answer his own questions. It would not be easy and something told him that his twin was already well ahead of him on this journey and that she would take a far different path to arrive at their final destination. But they would arrive together someday; he was certain of it no matter how impossible it seemed now, and somehow he would have to take comfort in that knowledge, especially in the days ahead.

If he were to move forward from here, as he was now fully committed to do, he would have to find his own way. The pang of loneliness, his only constant companion as of late, twisted his insides painfully. There had never been a time when he felt so isolated and alone. He turned to look off in the distance, over the grounds of the Temple and out to the city of Coruscant beyond it. Somewhere he had to find where he could make a difference in this galaxy, where he fit. What did he want to be, to do with himself? Which of his talents and ambitions did he want to develop and to pursue? Who did he want to be?

"I should go," Leia said into his silence, her voice was tired.

"Yeah," Luke agreed. "Me, too."


	82. Chapter 82

It is Your Destiny…

_Nar Shaddaa _

Nar Shaddaa was much like Coruscant and some other urban worlds, in that it had long ago left the land and earth of the original planet behind buried beneath piles and piles of growth and progress. Years of building on top of old buildings lent the entire planet the feeling as if its cities were built in the skies with smog and stench as their only foundations. There was a saying amongst the inhabitants of those worlds that to die was to 'meet the earth', for no one lived that had ever touched its soil.

Han had been excited by the prospect of returning to the infamous Smuggler's Moon and had left Coruscant with an eagerness that had helped ease the pain of leaving Leia. But ever since he had left Republic Space, he had been plagued with a wary sense of foreboding such as he had never experienced before. He attributed it all to his feelings for Leia and the uneasiness with which he had left her behind. It was a new and novel feeling for him; even when he had left his home world of Corellia for a new life on the galactic capital, he hadn't felt like this.

All of his life he had been moving _toward_ something, he realized; leaving his home for the Academy as a young boy, leaving Corellia for his military career as a young man, never having looked back with a sense of longing or regret for that which he had left behind. His memories and his training were a part of him. He took them with him and they shaped who he was but they were not a necessity; they did not beckon him back, urging him to return. For the first time in his life he felt incomplete, unbalanced and unsure and it unnerved him greatly. Was this normal? Was this all just love or something else? He hardly knew.

He had never been so much in love before and so he had to admit that he had never really been in love. The thought was all at once exciting and terrifying to him. Leia was the one thing that he had now found that he could not leave behind. These feelings, he now understood, also fueled the urge that he had to set himself apart from her for awhile; to rediscover and reassert himself within the Republic in light of everything that had happened. Part of him was scared of _needing_ someone so desperately; it could not be safe or normal for either one of them.

It was good, he told himself yet again, that they would spend this time apart so that they could rediscover themselves in these new circumstances and emerge as different people. Stress, distance and competing priorities were all things that they had to learn to deal with if they were to see this thing through. It wasn't as if they could just fly around forever in their own little bubble as they had done aboard the _Eclipse_. Still, he worried for her and despite all the arguments and rationalizations that told him he was doing the right thing. He felt torn.

Han pulled back onto a worn lever on the _Millennium Falcon's_ control board and watched as the stream of stars reverted to the speckles of realspace outside the atmosphere of Nar Shaddaa. The large world glowed orange in his viewport as its artificial lighting danced against the dense smog and pollution. Han and Chewbacca had strategized during the hyperspace trip, the pair falling back into sync quickly and easily occupying Han's mind with logistics and politics and planning and it had made the transition a little less painful when his mind was busy with thoughts other than Leia. They had approached the planet from its southwest quadrant and Han steered the _Falcon_ toward the Deucalon Spaceport and to one of the older and seedier sections of the lawless world.

This was not where normal sightseers and high-stakes gamblers would travel to on business trips, extravagant vacations or luxurious honeymoons. This was where men might take their mistresses, thieves might take their chances and outlaws made the rules. Whatever businesses remained here had never paid for a casino to be built or had never carefully watched as a high-rise was constructed to its design. Even the nicest parts of Nar Shaddaa weren't frequented by the most upstanding citizens of the universe but this section was even lower than that.

This part of the world had been abandoned by the kinds of business people that might actually build something new or run a legitimate company and all the old evidence of that sort of manufacturing and growth had been overtaken by a different sort of businessman, like weeds sprouting up out of nowhere on neglected farmland. Anyone could be anything here and nobody trusted or believed anybody. It was a sort of organized anarchy.

Han and Chewbacca had known all of this and had come here for just that reason. This was the society they would immerse themselves in and mingle with in order to find what they were looking for. Their backgrounds, carefully constructed by the SIS, were that of small-time smugglers for hire. The goal of their mission was to land a job carting illegal goods for the Empire and to discover the whats, wheres, hows and whys of whatever the Imperials might be up to. They would gamble, drink and rub elbows with the filthiest sort of thugs. It was like acting, playing, vacationing and working all rolled up into one. Han loved it.

They set the _Falcon_ down in her designated docking bay at the spaceport. Powering down the ship, they performed a last, cursory check of their supplies. Chewbacca had strapped an ammo belt across his shoulder so that it hung down to his opposite hip and on his back he had slung a bowcaster that was even more formidable than it looked. Other than that the Wookiee was unarmed but Han knew that was an oxymoron. There was no such thing as an unarmed Wookiee.

Han breathed in deeply and dispelled a calming breath. Undercover missions at their onset always held with them a mixture of excitement and caution and as much as Han might enjoy the work, he never lost sight of the fact that it was work. He was dressed in nondescript spacer clothes that would corroborate their alibi. Patting down the length of his torso, he verified his discreet armor was in place and that his holdout blaster and vibroblades were secured. He leaned down, checked his boots for some of the same and then ended with a flip of a switch on his hip-mounted blaster, checking its charge as he stood back up again.

"Ready?" He said to Chewbacca and was answered with an affirmative grunt. This affirmative grunt may only have been heard as: "yes", by anyone else. However, although strict, direct translation was subjective at best, if Han were to be pressed at that moment, his more acute translation would've been: "for anything".

The pair exited the _Falcon_ and locked her up tight. Crossing the long length of the hangar bay toward the lifts, Han had to step over supply lines and miscellaneous equipment as he walked determinedly toward the exit. Service droids bleated at him as they maneuvered unhappily out of his way. Chewbacca growled at them; a low, menacing purr that made the non-organics cower and scurry like spooked womprats. Han smirked. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed traveling with a Wookiee.

They had secured a private hangar and had paid for refueling and standard exterior maintenance. Han wanted it to look as if he had returned from another run and so had done everything as a normal spacer would. He had also requested a team of security droids, also not at all uncommon on Nar Shaddaa. Spaceship theft was rampant and sometimes what a smuggler held in his holds could be worth more than three or four of his ship. On their way out they had the secdroids scan them as the only approved beings, non-mechanical or otherwise, that would be allowed access to the hangar or the ship. Tossing a quick glance back at the _Falcon_ and feeling as if he had crossed one worry off of his mind, he and Chewbacca boarded the lift and headed to the main level.

To leave the spaceport, he and Chewie would have to rent a taxi. Traveling from sector to sector was done in the air, of course, since there were no roads. The sector that housed the spaceport also included the jail and the police precinct, such as it was, and so it was the least lawless sector of them all and not at all where Han and Chewie (and most other vagrants) wanted to be. Han and Chewbacca stood in line for a speeder and when they finally boarded one, requested the Nikto sector.

The taxis were piloted by droids and Han enjoyed sitting back and watching the traffic speed by as Chewie, always the terrible passenger, warfled uneasily beside him. For any newcomer the ride from the spaceport could be as thrilling (or frightening) an experience as the casinos and other attractions. The droid pilots, maneuvering with the dexterity of their artificial brains, sliced and slithered through the dense army of traveling craft with a disconcerting ease. Chewbacca likened it to the swinging acrobatics of the tree-jumpers back on his home planet of Kashyyyk, but added a derogatory comment regarding humanoids and their propensity to leave all the fun to droids and servants.

The Nikto sector, where Han and Chewie were headed to, was named after the inhabitants that had overtaken the place when its rightful owners had abandoned it. This part of Nar Shaddaa, was broken into several sectors in that exact same way. There was the Nikto sector, the Corellian sector, the Duros and others. Usually the sector name reflected the dominant species who had laid claim there, like the Nikto Sector, but other times a violent overthrow may have caused a sector to be overrun by some different species although the name would unwittingly remain. That was how an unsuspecting tourist might fly to the Evocii sector only to find himself swarmed by Ganks.

The Nikto were a fierce species known to be indiscriminate with their loyalties to anyone but themselves. They were renowned fighters, but much like the Wookiees, their stronger warriors had been known to be exploited by the Empire and their weaker, forced into slavery. Unlike the Wookiees, however, this did not stop the Nikto from working with the Imperials and they were even more well-known for their ruthless business dealings pitted themselves comfortably between the scourge of the Hutts and the mercilessness of the Imperials. If there was illegal work to be found that would help Han and Chewbacca infiltrate the Empire, they had set their hopes on finding it here.


	83. Chapter 83

It is Your Destiny…

_Somewhere in Deep Space_

"It's possible they did not sense her distress. She was, by all accounts, Force blind."

Grand Admiral Thrawn glared at the young Sith, in full awareness that even seemingly super-human Force wielders were unnerved by his red eyes and the overall demeanor and mystique of the Chiss. "It's also _possible_ that you killed her too quickly. Have you a brain cell among you since the Emperor's death?"

A part of him, a very large part, enjoyed the wave of winces that traveled across the room. These Emperor's Hands felt the death of their Master as one would feel the phantom pain of an amputated arm. It had been an odd fact that he had heretofore exploited, but he was only now realizing what a crippling phenomena it was to his overall plan. They were lost without a leader.

"I need agents that can _think._" He seethed at them as he slammed his hands down on the conference room table. "If you are all merely puppets, let me know now and I can begin to recruit the _lowest_ of bounty hunters for even _they_ should be able to outperform yourselves."

Sohrenssen, a particularly large, male human that sometimes acted as head of the group, straightened his posture and spoke calmly. "We require balance. We have lost that with the death…of our Master. But we are not puppets. We are the most talented and resourceful of the Master's pupils. We will not fail you again."

Thrawn stood from the table, mentally rolling his eyes. Each of the Emperor's Hands had been groomed and coddled by the Emperor and fed such lines as those that Sohrenssen had just regurgitated by rote memory. Each had thought themselves one of a kind. Thrawn was still amazed that upon discovering their brethren, every one of them had not made it their final duty to kill all the others. He swallowed the bad taste in his mouth, knowing that _that_ fact was also further evidence of their weakness.

"You will find Anakin Skywalker by any means necessary," Thrawn said with his back to them. The Chiss Admiral still felt the bitter sting that was his own foolishness for relying on Grand Moff Tarkin for his last plan. He was well aware that out there in the remaining ranks of the Imperial forces there were other Grand Moffs with even more outlandish schemes. He would not be a part of them this time. "You are all aware of his weaknesses. You know of what family he has left and I expect _results_ this time, not excuses."

"What of his children? What are the parameters of their usefulness?" Kylioh, a young female Sith asked.

Thrawn's skin prickled with anger as he spun around to face his charges. "You dare ask that question after the disgrace that occurred on Naboo?"

Kylioh appeared intimidated by Thrawn's reaction, but she continued, "The mother was not Jedi. Surely the murder of a Force sensitive child would-"

"No!" Thrawn cut her off. He could not leave it to these mindless brutes to decide who and when to kill. "There will be no more false parries. You will not kill the Skywalker twins until their father is in my clutches. After that, you may have them both in any manner that you wish."

The sickening stench that filled the conference room made Thrawn's stomach lurch. It was not a smell exactly but a vibration through the air that thrummed deep into his bones. The Sith, each in their own horrific way, were salivating over the promise of torture, murder and perhaps worse for the Skywalker twins once in their hands. This was not the sort of incentive that Thrawn was accustomed to providing and it was not one that he was at all comfortable with. He was not without standards. But as he dismissed his charges and sent them on their way, he justified the means by the end that he envisioned.

Once he had Skywalker in his clutches he could control the Sith. The Sith were the only viable weapon against the Jedi and as the Jedi went, so did the Republic. Anakin Skywalker would be the new Emperor; he would bring the balance that Sohrenssen spoke of and he would be the puppet on the end of Thrawn's strings. Perhaps the children could be utilized as leverage to keep the Chosen One in line? He counted on his other weapon for that, his hidden eyes and ears.

Thrawn's bones now thrummed with a new kind of vibration; a tantalizing and sweet sensation of supremacy and control. Under his reign the galaxy would learn discipline and experience peace. He was not a mindless, power hungry Moff; he had vision and all he needed was the means to achieve it. As an alien, he would never be granted such power willingly, but with the Jedi and the Sith at his mercy, he would breakthrough those out-dated prejudices and bring the entire universe into a new realm of consciousness and enlightenment. It would be glorious, he thought as he thrummed his fingers against his chin. It would be glorious, indeed.

* * *

><p><em>Coruscant<em>

Dressed all in black and tiptoeing down the marbled hallways of the Jedi Temple in the middle of the night, Leia thought back to a time many, many years ago when she had been sneaking out to meet Winter on a day that had forever changed her life. When she jumped at the sound of an airflow vent clanging in the distance, she wondered if - in the years between the two events - she had grown up at all. Back then she hadn't wanted to be bothered with the Master's rules and felt as if she knew what was best for her. If she were caught now, she would end up claiming almost exactly the same thing. Something about that fact didn't set well with her.

When she found herself free from the walls of the Jedi Academy, however, she found herself free of those thoughts as well. In fact, as she walked briskly down the streets of Coruscant, she immediately began to focus on the next part of her mission. An adult Jedi 'running away' from the Temple wouldn't cause much of a stir, but what she planned on doing next wouldn't be so innocuous. What she had planned next might be classified as treason. But she didn't think about that either.

She approached the nondescript hangar where the military housed the Jedi StealthX's with a posture and air that suggested she belonged there. It had only been a few days since they had dissolved her team and she hoped anxiously that her clearance hadn't already been revoked. A few bored, yet alert men stood guard and watched her dubiously as she drew near. She sent them subtle reassurances through the Force, mentally convincing them that she belonged there just as much as they did. If they were strong-minded or otherwise caused her trouble, she had no doubts that she could subdue them. Her plan would unfold far more easily if it didn't come to that, however, and she pummeled them with a barrage of happy thoughts as she dragged her badge through the card reader.

The clearance badge worked and with a few clanks from the interior mechanisms, the large door slid open and Leia waltzed in. She made her way across the hangar floor as the door slid back shut behind her. There was one more significant hurdle she had to cross before she could breathe easy again but she thought she knew just the right 'person' to help her through it. Leia arrived at her own X-wing and detached her astromech unit from its charging station. After Force lifting him into his socket, she performed a few pre-flight checks on her ship and then walked across the tarmac to find who she was looking for.

As she approached her brother's X-wing, his astromech unit began to chirp and whistle excitedly. Leia bent down, freed the droid from his restraining bolt and charge clips and whispered, "You remember me, right?" As she patted the dome of Artoo Detoo.

The droid beeped and booped excitedly, rocking back and forth on his struts.

"I need your help," Leia responded.

The droid calmed down and whirred cautiously.

"It's very important and secret. You remember how well you can keep a secret, right?"

Artoo blatted his indignant response, as if insulted by her even questioning him on that.

"Well, this is one of those times where I need you to do something for me."

The little droid responded with a questioning bleep.

"I need to take my X-wing out for a little while and I need you to open the hangar for me."

Artoo whistled back and Leia couldn't tell if he was impressed with his latest task or if he found it beneath him.

"Just long enough for me to get out and it doesn't matter what you tell them once I leave, they're gonna know it was me anyway."

The droid chortled worriedly.

"I'll be fine. I promise."

Artoo Detoo spun his dome around a few times and then whistled something that sounded like good luck before he rolled off toward the control room. Leia watched him for a moment and then darted off toward her StealthX.


	84. Chapter 84

It is Your Destiny…

_Nar Shaddaa _

Han and Chewbacca walked casually through the streets of the Nitko sector. Han had found slipping back into his covert operative façade just as simple as strapping on his holster that morning. This was something that he enjoyed. He liked analyzing and capitalizing on situations, especially with regards to reading people. It had done him well as the commander of the _Eclipse,_ but it had not been quite as rewarding as mingling in the trenches and flirting with the freedom of anonymity. He realized then that he much preferred being his own boss over being the boss of others. Even though the sting of his transfer was still sharp in his mind, he began to realize that it had probably been for the best.

It was an odd thing, Han thought as he looked around, to enter one of these overtaken areas. Everything that had once been utilized by a prosperous business and peoples was now repurposed to fit this new era and lifestyle. Warming fires burned in old public waste receptacles and office buildings with their glass walls, were now hovels hosting families of six and seven; their see-through frontages now curtained with stitched together shades. Independent-type businesses of the 'here today, gone tomorrow' sort sold pies in the front and illegal wares in the back rooms that had once been boardrooms or executive offices some time ago in some other life.

He and Chewie walked past a small lean-to that had once been a taxi stand but was now draped with a thick, floral fabric. It had been repurposed by an entrepreneurial prostitute as a one-room brothel. There were lewd sketches scribbled like a menu of the 'services' one could buy there. As they walked by, Han saw that the curtain was drawn and the odd placement of feet sticking out from underneath it left little to the imagination of what might currently be going on inside. Anyone walking by could easily deduce that the current customer would be lighter in his wallet by ten galactic credits by the time he was done. Han turned away and headed southwest toward the market district and Chewbacca once again chortled his disparaging opinion regarding all non-Wookiees and their odd behaviors.

Once in the market district, Han scanned around furtively searching for his opportunity. The key would be not to look as if they were searching for particular work, but to align the parameters of their employment such that they would have a better chance at landing the type of job that they were searching for. Han's false record provided by SIS showed him as a highly skilled and successful criminal, this would allow him to be selective. He had rented a private hangar, not something that someone down-on-his-luck would do, so that added an air to his situation as well. He would demand a high price for his services, which would usually eliminate working for the Hutts since they were notoriously cheap. All of that would hopefully fortify their chances at getting aligned with the Empire.

They planned on turning their noses up at the first offer of illegal Imperial work, using the infamous Wookiee hatred for the Empire as their reasoning. It would not serve them well to jump at the first mention of the Empire's generous bankroll. After that, it would be up to Han's negotiation skills and wherewithal for gambling to see them through to their goal. He would push for an inordinate amount of money to 'keep his Wookiee in-line' but he couldn't push them too far. Reputation only counted for so much and Nar Shaddaa wasn't called the Smuggler's Moon for nothing; there would be several other capable pilots waiting behind him to snatch up his scraps should he overplay his hand. His heart thrummed with anticipation; this was just the sort of thing that he lived for.

Across the market square, which had formerly been a four-way intersection, Han spotted a tented establishment with Nikto writing and the basic word 'bazaar' scribbled haphazardly on several sign posts. The fading colors of the main area suggested that it had been around for quite some time, despite the appearance that it could fold up and disappear within the hour if necessary. Han knew that it probably could fold up and disappear overnight and that it had been built with that exact purpose in mind, but it had _not_ and that was a good sign. Whoever ran the place was running it well, cutting the right deals and greasing all the necessary palms. The brighter, newer tented areas that had been stitched and added on over the years suggested that business was expanding and its steady growth could be tracked by the contrasted color from most faded to the brightest just as surely as an accountant could trace the red, up-ticked line on a corporate graph.

Han turned casually to walk along the outskirts of the square. No one headed anywhere purposefully in Nar Shaddaa and cutting across the main intersection would most certainly draw unwanted attention to them by anyone who might be watching. And there was always someone watching. The high rise apartments that towered all around them were filled with spotters and watchers, and those that didn't pay heed to how their movements might look to them were those that turned up dead, missing or, if they were lucky, slightly disfigured. Suspicion itself was the only judge and jury around these parts.

Han snaked through the market shanties and pretended to consider an old virbroknife. The merchant spoke gruffly and acted as though selling it would be highly inconvenient to him. The Nikto weren't bred to be salesmen; it would be like Chewie running a daycare. Han finally handed the knife back and waved the merchant off, smoothing his ruffled feathers by purchasing a sack of hot Chaka nuts from the man's wife. Women of any species, it seemed, always made better salesmen.

When they stepped back onto the streets they were only a few tents away from their goal. Han popped a few Chaka nuts into his mouth and turned his back on the bazaar to speak to Chewie. It would look as if they might be deciding to leave.

"Whatdya think?" Han said to Chewie looking past him and down the street.

Chewbacca barked saying that it smelled and he was ready to leave. Then he grumbled, noting two scouts above the bazaar and an armed guard near the entrance.

"Let's-" Han was about to suggest that they head in when he noticed a ruckus further down the street. A young Nikto boy was running for his life, tipping over carts and hurdling over barricades, stumbling his way through the market and leaving chaos in his wake. He was being chased by three angry looking officers. There was no way to tell who the officers worked for; even the legitimate Nar Shaddaa military wore nondescript uniforms for fear of being targeted. The boy was heading their way but they were standing near a dead end. Han looked back toward the large bazaar. The armed guard at its entrance had pushed his cloak back and had his hand resting on his weapon prepared for trouble.

When Han turned around the boy was upon them, skidding into Chewbacca and scurrying the other way. Han had a split second to think about it; the enraged officers were barreling toward him. Han looked around. Next to him was an old can simmering with a struggling fire. The first officer was passing right in front him, Han stuck his foot out and tripped him. The man went sprawling and his cronies, who had been hot on his heels, got tangled up in his flailing legs rolling into a pile and upturning the fire barrel.

The officers melted into a writhing heap of limbs right in front of Han and Chewie and everyone along the streets began to crowd around and cheer. Han stood watching for a moment, an amused smile spreading across his face as he surveyed the mayhem he had sewn. The officers scrambled to their feet and ran a few steps toward where the boy had gone, shoving the onlookers out of the way as they hopped up on their toes to sight their prey, but he was nowhere to be seen. The boy had escaped.

Then, in an instant that seemed to drag by in slow motion, the uniformed officers turned their sour faces back around and Han realized that _he_ was now the focus of their malice and discontent. His eyes widened as he took a step backwards, slamming into the brick wall of fur that was his silent partner. "Nice and slow, Chewie," Han mumbled through his lips that were now outstretched in a wide grin of innocence and calm.

Han turned and walked swiftly on his feet, trying to disappear into the crowd. It was harder to blend in, he discovered, when there was a two meter Wookiee by his side. They rounded a corner and he broke into an almost run, slowing down by his mental clock when he thought their pursuers might have come back into view behind them. His heart was racing and, as he stepped around a small vendor's cart, he chanced a glance backward and caught the eye of one of their pursuers. A burly big one, the one that he had tripped, met Han's eye and with a nudge of his elbow to his partner and a few whispered words that Han could easily guess at, the officers gave chase.

"C'mon, Chewie!" Han growled as he pulled his gun from his hip and pushed his way through the throngs of people. They were headed back out of the market but Han spun and snaked around knowing that the dense crowd would be his best weapon at the moment. Chewbacca was too easy to spot, however, splitting the sea of peddlers and customers alike, like the fin of a Corellian shark on a rippling lake. Another disadvantage, Han cursed. "Stay low," he said behind him, crouching himself as if to demonstrate to the towering beast what he meant. Even hunched over, the curious stares and reactions that the Wookiee garnered made it a futile exercise at best. They had to find an escape.

Almost on their knees now, Han and Chewie scurried through the crowds like sewer rats eliciting curses and screams and howls as they raced by. Chewbacca gave a halting grunt and Han stopped behind a small lean-to and huddled himself against it. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breath was coming in gasps. Being a commander on the _Eclipse_ hadn't done any favors for his stamina – he was downright winded!

"Corellian! Corellian!"

Han heard a female voice calling. By the rippled waves of the crowd he could see the officers coming closer.

"Corellian!"

He looked over, across the street was the entrepreneurial prostitute with the little shanty for her whorehouse. Han rolled his eyes, sometimes just being him was a curse. He shook his head at her vehemently but she would not relent, finally crossing the street and coming towards him.

"Corellian," she said softer this time as she grabbed his arm and gave his bicep a knowing squeeze. Something told Han to follow her and he half stood and let her lead him toward her shanty.

Chewbacca growled warningly. Han spotted the tops of the officers' heads bobbing through the crowd toward them, they were impossibly close. The woman urged Han on, hurrying him and Chewbacca into her stall. She pulled the drapes and immediately knelt in front of Han, her face then level with his crotch. Chewbacca rumbled menacingly, his distaste and disbelief tainting the air. The woman's hands were on Han's thighs and she was applying pressure to them. Han felt a wave a heat crawl up his neck as he blushed, something he usually prided himself on being immune to.

"Whoa, wait a minute," Han whispered, splaying his hand over his groin protectively. "You got me all wrong."

The Nikto woman looked up to him impatiently, her mouth dropping open and her teeth gritting closed as she said, "Move!"

Embarrassed, Han realized then that she was pushing him aside and he and Chewbacca jumped out of her way as if her words had burnt them. Her arms lunged forward between them and she began to fool with something on the small bench that doubled as her bed. Han saw that her feet were sticking out into the street, just as he had seen them earlier. His heart was still pounding in his chest from the chase and now his head was reeling from the rapid turn of events, from being chased, to being propositioned, to – what now?

Finally the bed lifted, revealing a dark tunnel beneath it, the blackness betraying its depth. "Go!" The woman seethed, taking her hands and pressing on his knees to hurry him.

Han had no idea who this woman was, friend or foe, but the tunnel seemed a far better option than the streets outside so he scrambled toward the tiny opening offering the woman the still warm bag of Chaka nuts that he had clutched in his hand as he began to lower himself into the tunnel. Finding a small ladder hinged to its side, Han took the rungs two at a time with Chewie following close behind him. When they were clear the bed slammed back down and what had just been dark grew impossibly darker.

They reached the bottom in what felt like must've been one story down. The floor beneath them felt solid but damp and the stench in the air made the streets of the Nikto sector smell like a spring bouquet. Han coughed. "Great, now where?" He whispered. He could barely make out the outline of the tunnel walls they were standing in, but he could see that they could go only two ways and both looked unending.

Chewbacca snorted and Han could feel more than see him turn about several times as he seemed to be working on getting his bearings. The Wookiee reached out clumsily to find Han and pushed him forward, grunting. That way would be further into the sector, Chewie was conveying to him and behind them should be toward the exit and the taxi pad.

Han thought it over quickly. Chances were that the officers would call for reinforcements or at least stake out the area. Just as it had before, Han thought, the crowds in the market would protect them more than the emptiness of the landing pad. Someone local had apparently cared enough to shove them down here, their best bet would probably be to go further into the sector and try their chances with the locals.

They walked slowly down the tunnel following its corners and curves blindly. The only sound was their labored breathing, thudded footsteps and Han's occasional curse of "Chewie!" when the furry beast would overrun Han with his impatience and fear. Wookiees may have been impressive warriors, but Chewbacca hated the dark and was known to be scared to death of night creatures that were as big as his toenail.

"Corellian!" Han heard someone whisper, this time it was a boy's voice. Around a curve, he could see dancing shadows which meant that somewhere up ahead there was light.

When they rounded the corner Han recognized the boy who belonged to the voice, it was the boy that was being chased by the officers. "This way," the boy said, turning on his heel upon finding Han and Chewbacca and doubling back in the other direction.

After a few twists and turns, they climbed up a tunnel similar to the one they had climbed down, only this one was hidden in a large kitchen. They were old access tunnels for city workers, Han had figured that out and the Nikto had hidden their entrances and utilized them as underground escapes. As his head and shoulders eased out of the small opening he felt a pair of strong hands grabbing him and lifting him up.

"There they are," a deep, male voice was saying. "A Corellian and a Wookiee, the unlikely heroes of the day."

Han came to his feet and began brushing off his clothing.

"The stench of the tunnels won't come off that easily," the man said. Han could see that he was a jovial looking Nikto that appeared to be about his age.

"Right," Han replied looking down at his hands and realizing that he was rubbing the filth of the gutter walls on his clothes and only succeeding in getting them even more dirty while he was trying to clean them.

"Here," the Nikto said, handing Han and Chewbacca each a large cloth.

Han took the towel gratefully and felt even more so when he realized that it was damp and moist and lifted the greasy gunk off of his hands with ease. Chewbacca grumbled, it would take more than a wet rag to clean the Wookiee, but Han said to their Nikto host gratefully, "We both appreciate it."

"And I appreciate _you_," the man said. "Anyone who stands up to those militants is alright in my book, no matter how he smells!"

The Nikto man laughed at his own joke and Chewbacca answered with several hoots that sounded like a returning chuckle but Han heard as more of a warning as to where the Wookiee might want to return the man's towel. Obviously the sewer hadn't done any favors for Chewie's disposition.

Han joined in, nodding his head and laughing with their new host and praying that Niktos didn't understand Shyriiwook.

The young boy that Han and Chewbacca had saved came into the room and served the small table with a round of drinks. The jubilant Nikto host, that Chewbacca still eyed menacingly, slapped the boy on the shoulder and said, "This is my _son_ that you saved."

Han lifted his chin to the boy and nodded in comprehension. "Why were they chasing you?" Han asked the boy.

The boy made a derisive sound and said sourly, "They don't _need_ a reason."

"He's good at _cards_," the older man drawled and then waved his son on.

Han watched the boy go. Corrupt soldiers were infamous for drinking free ale and doubling their wages on cards. Most citizens would throw a game with officers just so they wouldn't cause trouble. This boy must not be like most.

"You're new on our lovely planet," the Nikto man said.

"Yeah," Han replied.

"What brings you here? Wine? Women? Or credits? Although it must be the _wine_ or _credits_ from the way I hear Kah'ra tell the story!" The man laughed a deep hearty laugh and Han knew that he must've been referring to his run-in with the prostitute.

Han let the man laugh, nodding and smiling while he envisioned a few places that Chewbacca could shove that towel. "Funny," Han said finally.

"Name's Salprud," the Nikto boss said in a way that made Han think that perhaps he could understand a little bit of Wookiee. "And I own this humble little establishment," he said cheerfully as he raised his hands up indicating the area surrounding them.

Han looked around; the word humble was indeed a humble description of the place. They were in a large tented area with gambling tables, a cantina, café and a market. Han recognized it as the place that he and Chewie had set their sights on visiting before that chase had broken out and now here they sat with the owner and better yet, with the owner favorably indebted to them. _Of all the luck_, Han grinned and Chewie chortled knowingly.

Salprud, the Nikto boss, leaned back in his chair, studying the two of them. "Tell me," he then said easily. "What can I do for my son's rescuers? What _do_ two successful smugglers want to find on Nar Shaddaa?"


	85. Chapter 85

It is Your Destiny…

_Interplanetary Children's Hospital, The Lake Country, Naboo_

"It's very difficult for them to be reminded of it."

Leia eyed the young people sadly. She was walking with the Medical Director along the corridors of the hospital where her mother had been murdered. "I understand," she said solemnly.

"She came to us to help," the Director continued. Leia had asked him to fill her in on the details of her mother's last moments. Although he had already been questioned extensively by the authorities, the older man had reluctantly agreed. "We took all the children we were unable to evacuate and placed them in the lower level. The Queen – your mother – she was comforting them, reading to them. That's when they arrived."

"Who? Describe them to me, please."

"Jedi, or what you might call Sith."

She did not respond but merely gazed at him questioningly. Sith was not exactly a household word.

"I did some research after everything that happened," he said. "These people, with their lightsabers, were…wrong. I knew they weren't Jedi, weren't our _protectors_, from the minute they came into the hospital." The Director led Leia into a spacious office, closing the door behind them. "Before that moment I had never associated the glowing swords of your people as anything but a welcomed sight," he continued as he made his way across the office and sat down at his desk. "I'm afraid…I've lost that association."

Leia took a seat in one of the two guest chairs. "They had lightsabers and appeared not right. How so?"

"Their eyes glowed…menacingly and the veins in their faces were protruding and broken in places, making their skin seem dirty, blotchy and purple. And when they looked at you…," the Director stopped almost appearing physically ill from the memory.

"Please," Leia whispered as she leaned toward him. "Anything you can tell me might help."

The Director swallowed and nodded his head. "They looked at me as if I were nothing. I can't explain it any better than that. It was as if my life – all of our lives - held no value to them. As if, life itself did not matter to them."

Leia steeled herself against the meaning behind his words and the danger that lived there. "How did they find my mother?" She asked.

The man shook his head as if he were coming to a memory that was too hard to bear.

"It's okay. Whatever happened, no one can blame you – _I_ don't blame you."

"They started snapping necks like twigs, extinguishing the precious lives that we spend _our_ lives healing, as if they were nothing more than pawns in their game. Which _is_ what they were," he explained, the words coming fast and his voice was thick with emotion.

"They were asking for her? My mother?" Leia pressed.

He nodded his head, tears springing from his closed eyes.

"That's important for me to know," she said, seeing clearly that this man had probably given her mother up to her fate to save the lives of his patients. She still did not blame him. "You had no choice but to tell them, I understand that."

"No," he said sadly, opening his eyes and staring at her. "You don't understand." He stopped for a moment, seeming to gather the courage to continue. "I didn't tell them. She was our queen. It was the most difficult choice I have ever had to make. But I _knew_, somehow, that if she were that important to them, then it was important for me to protect her." His late words came out with a choked sob and he no longer tried to fight the tears that were streaming down his face. "It's my job, _my life_ to protect people. It's not usually a choice between…"

"You-" Leia began, her own words broken by threatening tears as her mind now conjured up a new vision of the events that day. "You are an extraordinary being," she whispered.

The man shook his head. "I don't envy you," he finally said. "I spent _one hour_ being, as you say, 'extraordinary' and I never want to experience that again."

Leia nodded in understanding, unable to formulate any other kind of response. "How did they finally find her?"

"She turned herself in," he said simply. "We were all prepared to die for her but I guess she…wasn't willing to let that happen."

Leia closed her eyes, visualizing her mother's actions. It was not hard for her to do. She opened her eyes, something not making sense to her. "You said she surrendered? I thought she died defending herself or the children?"

"Well, that's how the news went out, because that's what she did. She gave herself up to stop the killing."

"But then…why did they kill her? Was she resisting?"

"No," he said solemnly. "We all thought, and I guess the Queen did as well, that they intended to take her. But…"

"That was never their intention," Leia replied falling back into the seat, her body slumping with realization.

"No, sadly, no," the Director replied.

The rest of her mother's life played out in Leia's mind helplessly against her will. She tried to shut her eyes to it, but it only made the vision that much sharper.

* * *

><p><em>The Skywalker Estate, Naboo<em>

Leia passed by her StealthX nestled in a field on the Skywalker estate and checked on it before she headed for the house. Exhaustion had taken its hold of her as she left the Children's Hospital and began to sort out all that she had learned from her mother's last moments. Her mother had been targeted by someone, some Sith, and not for kidnapping or torture but for death. What could be gained by her mother's death? She could not fathom it.

Would it have something to do with her father? It was the only explanation she could reach. Either he was involved, which still seemed wholly horrific to consider, or her mother was a tool to get to her father. That seemed much more likely. But who was trying to get to her father? Was it just the Imperials? Or was it some agents of evil that had come from the mysterious actions of Anakin Skywalker and his lengthy disappearances? That seemed, although an unpleasant option, as the more likely one. These thoughts only confirmed that she had more to investigate and to learn.

She entered the palace through the main entrance. The house looked very different than it had the last time she had been there for her mother's funeral. The furniture was covered and everything that had made it her home had been packed up or removed. She set her small satchel on a box and walked across the large parlor toward the den. Her eyes danced across the ghostly outlines of white cloth that hugged whatever pieces of her childhood might hide beneath them. She approached one such covered piece in particular; she knew that she would've recognized its shape anywhere. Reaching out and pulling the tarp free she stood and stared for a moment.

Memories, like pages thumbed through an old book, flitted across her mind. This was the chair Leia would find her mother in when she came home late as a young girl or where she would find her mother relaxing and reading if Leia happened to surprise her one random weekend from university. It was the chair her mother sat in when she wanted to 'talk' about something or when she didn't want to talk at all. Leia realized that during large chunks of her life it was the chair that she mostly dreaded to see occupied for those same reasons, it was the chair that usually meant that she was in trouble. She would've given anything to find her mother waiting for her there now, she thought, no matter what the occasion. She would've given anything to erase those moments that she had wished those times away. As she slipped her shoes off and curled into that chair, she tried not to think about all the things she would've done differently had she just been given the chance.

It was a tingling warning sensation that awakened Leia sometime later. She stilled herself, halting her breathing and listening intently to the sound of nighttime. There was only silence but as its invisible partner it carried a sense of forewarning and danger. In an instant she was fully awake and she slid out of the chair, palmed her lightsaber at her hip and crouched down behind an adjoining settee. As she adjusted her eyesight to the darkness of the room, she removed her weapon from its clip and readied it. It was then that she heard them. At least two, maybe three beings approaching her, already in the house and with malevolent intentions tainting their presence. They were Force sensitives, but they were not Jedi.

_Sith!_


	86. Chapter 86

A/N: I have rewritten this chapter about a million times (no exaggeration). Finally I've decided that the only way to move forward is to just put it out there as it is. I apologize again for the long absence and repeat that I haven't abandoned this story as of yet. Previous versions of this chapter were beta'd by Zyra, Solo Smirk and Lady Peter and I thank them for that. This version ought to be sprinkled with a little something new for all, however, and I hope you all enjoy.

It is Your Destiny…

_The Skywalker Estate, Naboo_

Leia's mind was fuzzy from sleep. She felt the presence of the intruders bearing down upon her quickly. Through the Force she could sense their hunger and follow the single-mindedness of their hunt. Around her the room spun. She had drifted to sleep cloaked in memories and was now woken, like a splash of cold water, feeling vulnerable and exposed. It didn't help that her approaching enemy was the same adversary she had spent the previous day contemplating and loathing. For those first few seconds, it felt as if her nightmares had come true.

As the enemy entered the room she could feel them; their movements slow and precise. Silence filled the air and the Sith glided through the room as if they were ghosts. Leia shut her eyes, calming herself and visualizing the room surrounding her. The inanimate objects of her childhood home sprang to life around her, now fellow soldiers on this transformed battleground.

She reached out with the Force for a tall floor lamp in the northeast corner of the room. The slim object came to life under her invisible grasp, rocking back and forth as if struggling to take flight. Its base knocked against the floor. The movement of the Sith ceased. As the lamp finally fell with a loud crash, Leia's muscles jumped in response and she followed through with a high, Force-augmented leap, clearing the long sofa and adjoining settee and landing on her feet near the intruders, thrumming her lightsaber to life as she landed.

The darkened room was suddenly doused with the warm, blue light of her blade and she quickly assessed her opponents as they began to encircle and surround her, their own weapons instantaneously blazing to life. There was one female about Leia's size and two men. One of the men was young and similar in build to her brother, but the other was large – taller than Han and much heavier, wider and menacing. As for their intentions, she did not need to use the Force to figure them out. They meant her great harm, they meant to fight to the death. Leia curled her fingers ever tighter around the hilt of her lightsaber. _There is no death_.

The larger male had been approaching from Leia's right while the other two had taken the left. Leia leapt toward the pair, flinging her lightsaber toward the smaller man forcing him to parry the strike while Leia pushed the female back against the wall with a wave of Force strength. She knew that she would only have a split second as she brought her saber back into her hand and swung it high at the woman's head. The female Sith shrieked and matched Leia's strike with a defensive deflection. Without stalling the motion of her body, Leia followed through with the movement and spun her leg out to swipe the Sith's feet out from under her. The female Sith fell to her side onto the floor and Leia Force-leapt up and over to the far side of the room, slinging smaller pieces of furniture and boxes at her assailants as she went.

There was no longer any time to think. The female Sith was back on her feet and all three of them were leaping and bearing down upon her with vengeance. Leia drew up one of the large, white slipcovers and draped it over the smaller man, rendering him sightless. She spun the material tightly around him, forcing him to deactivate his lightsaber as his arms were drawn close to his sides. She then hurled him hard and fast toward one of the large windows, not lingering around long enough to see him crash through and tumble out into the night air.

Slipping out of the room she hurried up the stairs and down the long labyrinth of hallways as her pursuers quickly gave chase. She would not be able to hide; her Force signature would eventually lead them to her, yet still she wondered if she could use that to her advantage as well. Down through the deserted halls and up another flight of stairs, she ended up inside her parents' bedroom suite. She ran toward the large wall of windows and crouched behind the heavy fabric curtain; her breath coming in short, heavy gasps and her heart pounding in her chest.

The trio had split up to widen their search and in Leia's mind a plan began to formulate. Breathing deeply and drawing herself inward, Leia focused her Force senses onto the small female. The Sith were winding around the large house searching for her and she called out through the Force, discreetly encouraging the lone woman to come toward her location. Almost immediately, she heard and felt the woman enter the room and after allowing her a few steps in, Leia stood and stepped out from behind the tall curtains.

The Sith woman's eyes blazed with hatred as she raised her lightsaber and gave a blood curdling scream of alert to the rest of her crew. Leia lit her weapon and stepped toward her opponent. The Sith lunged forward and Leia sidestepped her and spun around lashing out furiously with her lightsaber to hit the left, unarmed side of the Sith. The awkwardness of the Sith's position at that moment allowed Leia to make hard contact with her arm; not with the blade of her weapon but with its metallic hilt. The Sith grunted in pain and in the same moment, Leia grabbed hold of the Sith's weapon while throwing her own lightsaber up into the air and spiraling it down toward the woman's head. The female Sith was forced to relinquish her own weapon as she reached out and grabbed Leia's approaching lightsaber in the process.

Now the pair stood holding each other's weapons. Leia could hear the approaching footsteps of the Sith's counterparts and she knew that she was running out of time. Just as she had done previously, Leia swooped up two of the white linen furniture covers and draped one of them over the Sith and one over herself. Both women held their lightsabers thrumming and crashing blindly against the other. The footsteps of the other Sith were right outside of the door as Leia parried the attacks and mentally prepared to make her next move.

It was then, in that moment as she felt the presence of the other Sith enter the room that Leia used all the Force might she could muster to throw herself at the female Sith. She threw herself _mentally_, not physically; subconsciously worming her way into the Sith woman's body, mind and soul. It was an idea she had thought about since her father had appeared to her aboard _The Eclipse_. When she had thought about it, it had not been in this exact context and the dangers and risks far outweighed any need. But she was too desperate to consider dangers and risks right then and she pushed forward with a vengeance.

Entering the woman was like trying to run through a mud pit and Leia trudged forward with phantom limbs that burned from the effort and quickly grew wobbly and tired. The Sith woman struggled, trying to fend off this malicious, unconventional attack. Leia pushed forward swatting away the Sith's innermost thoughts and desires like overgrown tree branches on an abandoned path. She had no plan, no idea where she was headed, yet she moved on.

Suddenly, there was an emptiness, a gaping hole that nearly sucked Leia in as if into a vacuum. The woman made a sound somewhere between a yelp and a gasp and it sounded to Leia like relief. Leia's presence swelled inside of this open area and foreign thoughts and ideas slivered into and out of her mind with no distinction as to which belonged to her and which to the Sith. Her ethereal body fumbled and flailed as Leia grabbed and grasped with all of her might for any familiar mental purchases that she knew decisively to be her own.

It was difficult to breathe; difficult to separate her mind from the writhing tangle of emotions and thoughts that were not hers. Leia's lungs were fed by air breathed in by another. And the woman's wrongness crept up her throat like bile threatening to spew her innards out from within. Leia held firm and stretched out subconsciously, filling and completing every empty crevice her soul could blindly feel out until eventually there was no separation, no distinction between the Sith's Force presence and Leia's own. She heard as if through a far off tunnel, the grunting lurches and howls of the male Sith as they approached the struggling pair.

With a howl and scream that bounced off the walls surrounding them, the two men brought their lightsabers to bear striking down their opposition with violent force. Leia's entire being shook from the blow as she fell to the ground with her counterpart landing beside her. Pain tore through every fiber of her being as she coughed and gasped for air. She felt herself slowly retracting from the place she had invaded inside of the Sith, pouring out of her like beads of sweat from her every pore. The Sith was dying, the misguided blows of her own crew delivering her on to the next world.

For Leia, evacuating the Sith and returning to her own body felt as if a part of her was being pulled from within and an aching emptiness swelled inside the pit that had been the Sith. She curled into a ball, drawing herself in as tightly as possible as she let this piece of her fade away and depart. In her pain-ridden daze, Leia could feel the swell of victory permeating in the Force. The remaining Sith looking down at the two bodies were still not fully comprehending what they were seeing. They were under the mistaken impression that they had won, that the dying body still holding the blue lightsaber in its hand was their opponent. That it was their cohort that writhed with life and their enemy that cooled and stilled with death.

Leia knew that she had little time to act. Although slightly disoriented and surprisingly weak, she pulled herself up to sitting, the sheet still covering her face and body and the red blade of the Sith's lightsaber still humming vigorously in her hand. Her fallen opponent shuddered with the rasp of her one last breath and whatever parts and pieces of her had remained in Leia simply fell away.

"Kyoh?" A male's voice asked tentatively, the confusion of the moment quickly setting in.

Leia coughed again and felt one of the men kneel down beside her. She moved quickly, stabbing the thrumming lightsaber blade straight through the man's side with a scream. She heard a roar of outrage from the last remaining Sith as she jumped up and away, shedding the white coverlet as she went. She could feel his fury even before she saw it dancing crazily in his eyes as he charged at her with reckless abandon. She could see now that she had killed the smaller man and that it was the bigger man that was left for her to fight alone.

The large Sith was powerful and his anger made him all the more strong. His first, low strike made solid contact with her hip and she could smell the burnt material and skin before the wound began to hurt her. She spun around, surprised by the ease of his strike. As her enemy flipped in the air, up and over her and swung another blow that gashed at a chunk of her arm, she realized quickly that now, as the odds were suddenly evenly matched, was still not the time to relent.

Pushing that pervading tiredness out of her and pulling on that inner strength that for her seemed to know no depths, Leia tumbled forward, rolling on the floor away from the Sith like a small ball. He Force-pushed furniture out of his way, throwing her parents' large bed across the room with ease as she scrambled to her feet, winding around the edge of a small bench as she tried to gain back a more offensive position. But he would not have it.

He threw himself forward, utilizing his weight to knock her down and elbowing her brutally in the face as he landed on top of her. Stars danced behind her eyeballs as the warm sensation and distinct taste of her own blood rushed into her mouth. Failure weighed as heavily on her chest as the weight of the man on top of her. How could she lose now, when she was so close and had endured so much? It was not to be. Anger and determination bubbled up inside of her once again.

She struggled, her tiny form held prone beneath the weight of the Sith's body and his frightening brute strength. He snarled down at her, his absolute hatred given a horrific voice. He was holding her at her wrists, a mocking leer dancing across his eyes as both of their lightsabers thrummed and burned against the floor. She felt it coming before he did it, but could do nothing to stop it. With the power of a thousand men he lowered his forehead to hers and rammed her so strongly that it took all she had to battle against totally blacking out. In her haze she felt her fingers release the hilt of the lightsaber in her hand, its blade powering down as it rolled away from her.

_Is this how I will die? _She thought hazily as her eyes fluttered shut. And for the briefest of moments, she wondered at her own mortality. She wished to see her father again and her brother and lastly, Han. It was not her death that weighed so heavily on her but the thought of leaving all of them behind knowing that they would all, in their own way, blame themselves. Her father, she knew, would fear that he had somewhere gone wrong with her training or with her discipline. Her brother would bear her failure as his own, in a way that he would never dare share her successes. And Han. Han would berate himself, perhaps to his own grave, over the simple fact that he hadn't been there, with her to protect her.

It was then that she heard a sound and only after she felt the warm spatter trail down her eyelid and over her swollen cheek, did she realize that the Sith had spit on her. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed up, blinking at her attacker.

"Jedi scum," he seethed.

Her brain felt numb, her thoughts fuzzy and uncontrollable as she tried to corral them into some sort of plan. But nothing would cooperate. Her thoughts seized up and held her down as much as his body was. Slowly from somewhere deep within her, a surge of fiery heat began to smolder and expand until it radiated out to her limbs and burned the tips of her fingers and toes awakening tired muscles and clearing her hazy mind. This feeling, this emotion that overtook her was overwhelming; it bubbled over and out of her until it no longer felt as if it were within the confines of her body or within her span of control. Something larger than her had been born and it pulsated with a life-force almost of its own, pressing outwards from her until it felt as if it filled the entire room.

A rippled of surprise tingled through the Force from her attacker. "You," he said, with a meaning that Leia could not comprehend.

Her body convulsed as she struggled to control and contain that presence that was larger than herself and that now encircled and surrounded the both of them. Her body nearly levitated as the enormity of her shackled emotions struggled to break free. She could not understand what was happening.

"Arrrrrghhhhh," The Sith roared as if he had been burned by her inner fire and he mumbled and cursed some unintelligible phrase that sounded rote with memorization and practice. Then he looked down at her in astonishment as if seeing her for the first time and recognizing her all over again. "Gah!" He screamed, his eyes mad with some wild emotion that Leia could not place.

The grasp his large fingers had wound around her wrists loosened and he seemed torn between some conflicting actions to take. And then, as his stare bore down at her with renewed vengeance, he began to speak again, "No!" He yelled, ramming his head down onto hers over and over again, as he once again recited that unintelligible phrase, blood and spittle flying everywhere as he bashed her head in with his own.

For Leia there was no meaning to his words or actions and no pain from the blows being dealt. She was apart from the confines of her mangled body as she finally allowed herself to go limp and lifeless against the floor. Then, as consciousness abandoned her, that all-encompassing presence that had flooded the room began to take over the thoughts in her mind, the pain of her body and the universe surrounding her until all of it eventually, tortuously and ever so slowly faded away to black.


	87. Chapter 87

A/N: Thanks to all who were still sticking around looking for updates on this story. I appreciated hearing from you. And most of you asked, so here's more.

* * *

><p><strong><em>It is Your Destiny<em>**…

_Nar Shaddaa_

Han and Chewbacca made their way through the streets of the Nikto sector. The place was no longer strange to them, having already run several small jobs for the crimelord Salprud, and they walked down the streets casually nodding to familiar faces as they went. As they rounded a corner, the pair passed the entrepreneurial prostitute's shanty that had been a secret escape route on the day of their first visit here. The bold woman who had been their rescuer stood, half-propped against the corner of her hut and as she met Han's eyes they shared a smile.

"Hey, Kah'ra. How's business?" Han asked politely, his and Chewie's first 'visit' to her hut was still a popular story to recite among the locals.

"Better if I had you in my bunk again, Corellian," Kah'ra purred back at him as she pushed herself away from the wall of the shanty and took a step toward him.

Han laughed, saying, "Take the day off, Kah," as he flipped an expensive credit chit in the air toward her. Kah'ra had two kids and an elderly mother that looked after them. She was also good at cards, could hold her liquor and tell a great story.

She caught the coin between two hands with a clap and studied it only briefly before she stuffed it somewhere underneath her clothes. "Thank you, Corellian" she said in a hushed voice devoid of any sultriness or innuendo, a voice that no customer ever got to hear.

Han drew his chin down slowly in a long, deep nod and Chewie chortled at her as they continued on toward Salprud's large tent.

For the people along the streets of the sector, like Kah'ra, the Corellian and his Wookiee counterpart were familiar sights by now. Vendors, that had discovered Han's weakness for hot Chaka nuts and Chewbacca's sweet tooth, waved their tempting treats into the air and called to the pair at length. By the time the two smugglers had made it to Salprud's office, Han had a new vest, black with several concealed pockets, and Chewie was gnawing on a honey-dipped treat that made him purr like a baby manka cat.

"Ah!" Salprud exclaimed excitedly as the pair entered the back room. "Out, out, out!" Salprud chased his other workers out the door as he clasped Han by the shoulder and ushered him and Chewie into the room.

The hairs on the back of Han's neck came to prickly attention as the crimelord appeared more nervous than usual. Han watched with a practiced ease and kept a smirk of amusement on his Sabacc face. This was not customary behavior for Salprud and it was raising Han's hopes that their time and effort thus far had not been waste.

Once the room was cleared, a server hurried in with drinks, unusually excited or not, Salprud never was one to forget his manners. "What's up, Sal?" Han asked casually as he slid into an empty barstool and took a sip of his ice cold Corellian ale.

"My good friend, the Corellian," Salprud said lightly unable to hide his poorly suppressed enthusiasm. "You might ask whether or not the gods sent you to me, or did they send me to you?" He recited his words with great flare and gestured his hands wildly as he spoke.  
>Han studied Salprud carefully, the Nikto was grinning like a child that has discovered a hidden candy jar. "And why would I ask that?" Han answered, his face betraying no hint of emotion.<p>

"Because I have a job that will make both of us very rich," Salprud replied, his voice now low and uncharacteristically serious.

Han took another healthy swig of his drink and ended it with a satisfied 'ahhh'. Inside his mind was racing, for it usually took a great deal of credits to turn Happy Salprud into Thoughtful Salprud. "How _rich_ do the gods plan on making us?" He asked. It was not proper etiquette to lust after money when in polite circles. If he were chartering a job on any number of the sovereign territories, he would have to pretend that credits didn't really matter although everyone knew that they really did. But on Nar Shaddaa it was suspicious to do anything but discuss money and then always ask for more. Han vastly preferred Nar Shaddaa to most every other planet for that little factoid alone.

"Not the _gods_," Salprud replied with a salacious grin and then leaning in he lowered his voice even further and added, "The _Imperials_."

Han bristled, his face falling into a frown and Chewbacca gave a warning growl. From the onset, they had made it clear to Salprud that they did not like working for the Empire, stating that Chewbacca especially nursed a grudge toward them. It had all been part of their plan, of course and at the time Salprud had nodded his head with empathetic understanding and then verified that credits would, of course, soften the smuggler's stance if and when it might become necessary. _Act like it's the last thing you want and they'll eventually give it to you_, Han thought wryly.

"Ah," Salprud replied to Han's scowl and Chewie's groan. "But with the kind of credits I'm talking about and for the ease of the job, even the mighty Wookiee may perhaps lay down his convictions for the duration of this little endeavor."

"Let's talk _creds_ first, job second," Han stated evenly while holding a hand down low toward Chewbacca in a signal that would look like an attempt to calm his agitated counterpart.

"Seventy-five _thousand_ Imperial markers," Salprud said proudly.

Han lifted his chin and nodded. An Imperial marker could only be spent in Imperial space and their value fluctuated wildly as rumors and soothsayers calculated the odds of the Empire rising to power once again. After the destruction of the superweapon (which Han had had a heavy hand in) the markers' value plummeted, but miraculously (and suspiciously) it had swiftly recovered. All of that being the case, at the very worst, Han would get an even trade for the markers, but if he hit it on the right day, he could end up with upwards of one hundred thousand credits. It was certainly enough to sway most anyone's convictions.

Han sat back and stroked the stubble on his chin, turning even more thoughtful. It was then, when he realized how many credits he was looking at and where they might eventually end up, that some secret part of him, something that felt like a buried memory or a repressed desire, unfurled curiously from inside of him. Visions of his own ship and freedom danced inside of his head as he began to calculate the odds of just how much he might be able to skim off the top before getting caught – just how many credits would the Republic miss and how hard would they look for it? Just… Han sat back up, shaking the feeling off quickly, sending it back from wherever it had come from before nodding at Salprud in silent approval.

"I thought you might say so," Salprud replied, his smile beaming even brighter as he poured fresh drinks around the table. "And the easiest job, did I mention that?"

"Yeah," Han said, getting back down to business, only slightly unnerved by his momentary lapse. "What is this _all-too-easy_ job?" He asked suspiciously, he might've only been a pseudo smuggler, but even _he_ knew that easy jobs were never easy, especially good paying ones.

"A shipment," Salprud said, shrugging his shoulders. "Of assorted supplies delivered to some outer rim world named Endor. I've never heard of it, but sure enough, there it was on our charts."

"Assorted supplies?"

"Crates, no loose items, no passengers, no droids," Salprud explained, already familiar with Han's pet peeves. "All packed and ready and right here on Nar Shaddaa."

Han shook his head, mentally calculating all the facts and finding that they just wouldn't add up. "Why the high marker then?" He asked.

Salprud looked around. "_Discretion_," the Nikto whispered. "Apparently whatever the Imperials are doing on Endor, they don't want the Republic to find out about it. You should've seen the interrogation I had to endure in order to obtain this contract." Salprud's shoulders shuddered at the memory.  
>Han shrugged, feigning disinterest and modest approval while his insides were churning with delight. "Discretion is my middle name," he said happily while he took another sip of his drink.<p>

Chewbacca chortled his approval, careful not to even add any offhand remarks. He was thinking they were onto something as well.

"I _knew_ you would see things my way," Salprud beamed. "The both of you!"

* * *

><p><em>Somewhere in Hyperspace<em>...

Leia stood in a meadow of the Skywalker estate. She recognized the tall, flowing grass and the smell of Millaflower blossoms in the air. Her hair whipped gently around her face and in her small hands she held a glass jar with a shiny twist-top lid and air holes punched through its surface. Dozens of flying insects buzzed inside of the jar. Leia knew she was dreaming.

Across the meadow she saw her mother. The long skirts of the Queen's robes fluttered around her ankles and the wind whipped small tendrils of her hair around her pleasant smile. _Open it_. A familiar voice boomed across the field. Leia turned and saw her brother. Luke looked bigger, older and wiser than Leia. She looked down at her hands, they were chubby with youth and there were dimples where her knuckles should be. _Luke?_ She called out in a voice that was no longer her own. A voice from the past. _Open it_. He said again with a smile that looked wistful.

Leia looked down at the jar of insects in her tiny hands and struggled to do her brother's bidding, to twist the lid free. _Let them go_. Luke insisted from somewhere in the distance and his commanding voice compelled her. Her face screwed up with a dogged determination and she glanced at her mother for reassurance. Padme Skywalker looked on silently, the expression on her face solemn. Her smile fading.

The lid finally sprang free with a pop and when Leia's eyes returned to its contents she dropped the jar and screamed in horror. There were so many of them. They swarmed from the jar in a tornado of darkness consuming the sky and drowning the meadow with the sounds of their wings flapping and her mother's screams. _Mother!_ Padme's hair swirled around her head, entirely free from its elaborate 'do and twisted around her neck until her face turned purple. It wasn't until the cloud of insects consumed her mother completely that Leia finally lost sight of her and screamed.

What had she done? Her heart was pounding furiously as she searched frantically for Luke. He stood with his arms folded and a sadness in his eyes while his body was buffeted and rocked by the attacking swarm. Leia ran toward where her mother had stood, but frustratingly, her heavy legs would bring her nowhere. Suddenly she was back in the house, the riot of fluttering wings scraping against the windows like a vicious storm. No. Leia cried, shaking her head helplessly. She could not come back here, not even in her dreams; she would rather face the demons outside her childhood home than the ones she had so recently left _inside_ of it. _Please_, she begged. But it was no use and she realized with a shudder of horror that she was not only back inside the house but back inside of that Sith, the tepid, choking mind of that Sith. She whimpered with helplessness, withdrawing into the deepest crevices of her soul but finding that there was no place she could hide, that there was no means of escape.

Pain. Fear. Betrayal. Rage. Murder. Contempt.

It was as if every insect, every flutter of their wings contained every dark emotion she had found there and they were beating on Leia's soul just as they beat on the windows of her home. So raw and so potent that Leia felt once again choked by them. Unable to withdraw, helpless to hide from them she sunk down into the deep emotional swamp of terror. She could feel the presence of others, their hearts and minds like fog hanging in the air around her. It was a bastardized twist on the Jedi battle meld. Dozens of Sith all communing together for a single purpose and hatred was at its core. There was no reason, no benevolence or compassion. Everything that she beheld or cherished in life was smothered by an intense determination to control, oppress and distinguish at any cost.

She felt the part of her that was her heart - not the organ that pumped blood through her veins but that piece of her that nourished love - stop beating and in that indeterminable silence, there was no peace. Her body floated, as if weightless and in the sea of lost souls pulsating around her, there were some that were familiar. She reached out for them; their souls were still grey with the faint hint of light in the otherwise darkness of her mind. Were they fallen Jedi? She recognized a particular figure and she strained to make out its face. It was someone she knew. Who?

She gasped, clawing at herself as if she could tear the darkness away. She wailed in agony but could not move for he was there again; the large, maniacal Sith and he was lying on top of her and holding her down with vengeance and malice on his mind. _No_, she whimpered but knew that it was futile. He would have her, she could smell his intentions on his breath and in the air. He would enter her physically and emotionally, rape her body and her mind, take away all that was her love of life and happiness and replace it with this molestation of her soul. He would put his mark on her and she would be no more, she would be his. She struggled, pressing outward as she had done before. It was then, that another presence appeared, a strong and powerful one and its arrival drew havoc from all the dark creatures around her sending them scurrying like stepping on an Alderaanian ant mound.

Leia gasped, her eyes flying open. Bright, blinking lights bringing the terrifying dream abruptly to an end. She looked around; a dark expanse of stars surrounded her outside the canopy of her X-wing. It was all over, she had been dreaming. Her body throbbed with pain. "Father?" She moaned into the solitude of her cockpit but was answered only by silence. She keyed in a few numbers and gazed at the blurry haze of lights flashing back at her from the console. Unconsciousness beckoned her and she let her head flop lifelessly back against the headrest. The darkness fell upon her like a warm, heavy blanket and she drifted once again off to that place where she did not want to go but was powerless to fight, off: to a deep, dark sleep.


	88. Chapter 88

It is Your Destiny…

_Deucalon Spaceport, Nar Shaddaa_

Han Solo sat in the pilot's chair of the _Millennium Falcon, _his blank gaze falling thoughtfully on the coiled up fuel lines and discarded equipment on the docking bay floor below. His ship's holds were full and they were ready to depart for Endor. But something had happened to give Han pause. He had received a curious message, actually a burst of them. The same encrypted message, over and over at least a dozen times. If one could call random coordinates with no other explanation a message.

Chewbacca grunted and let out a questioning hoot as he plopped into the co-pilot's chair and began punching, twisting and turning dials in rapidly successive order.

"Huh?" Han replied absently, his eyes remaining trained on the big bunch of nothing out on the tarmac ahead of them.

The _Falcon's_ systems whirred to life as another set of hoots and howls from Chewbacca woke Han up from his thoughtful trance.

"Oh, yeah," Han mumbled as he joined Chewbacca in punching in the startup sequence for the _Falcon_. They worked together like a living thing, Han, Chewbacca and the ship. Well, they usually did, Han thoughts as his fingers fumbled incorrectly over a simple sequence and Chewbacca roared as the _Falcon's_ beeps and whistles joined in to protest just as greatly.

"Alright! Alright!" Han howled back to the both of them. "I got it, I got it." He focused his mind on the task at hand, putting the strange message out of his mind just long enough to bring the ship, the Wookiee and his nerves back online consecutively.

As the cockpit quieted down again, Han's thoughts drifted back to the curious message. On its own: random coordinates without any explanation, Han would've merely ignored it, mentally crumpling it up and throwing it away. But the repeated burst, the encryption that was somehow familiar and the proximity of the coordinates to his current location all had the deep-seated, ingrained warning bells that rested low in the back of his head, which were linked curiously to the hairs on the back of his neck, all on full alert.

"_Lightweight freighter, Docking Bay Four-Nine-Seven, cleared for exit vector Delta."_

Han mashed the external comm button with his finger. "Acknowledged," he replied gruffly, letting the button go just as forcefully. Then, turning a few knobs and performing a few last checks, Han said, "Chewie, ready the thrusters and bring us about."

Swiveling around in his chair, Han began to manipulate the navicomputer for their first jump. The old freighter rocked gently as Chewbacca lifted it off of the ground and pointed it toward the correct exit lane. Han's mind reeled with mathematical formulas, planetary exit trajectories and hyperspace algorithms. Their first jump should be straight out to the Nimban Hyperspace lane. From there they would make several small jumps across the galaxy on their way to Endor. This method of travel would be employed regardless of where they were headed. For one thing, Endor was very far from Nar Shaddaa and for another, when someone was trying to be discreet; they never jumped right to where they were headed. Skipping across the universe like a stone across a pond made the possibility of being followed nearly impossible.

Such evasive tactics as these wore heavily on the hyperdrive and other support systems of the spacecraft and could tax even the most proficient navicomputer and its pilot's mind. But this was where Han and his ship melded together almost as if they were extensions of each other. As Han calculated trajectories, mumbling to himself and punching in numbers, his ship purred, blatted and bleeped back at him spewing out coordinates, timetables and asteroid field locations.

Chewbacca, as copilot was just as proficient with this exercise, but the trio (man, Wookiee and ship) had learned long ago that one navigator at a time was optimal for continued and consistent success. So as Han carried out this odd conversation with the old freighter, Chewie maneuvered their way out of the docking bay and toward open space.

Once he had his thoughts in order, the coordinates set and his decision made, Han turned toward the viewport, his eyes adjusting easily to the dark expanse of sky before him and said, "Coordinates in. Punch it, Chewie."

* * *

><p><em>Deep Space, somewhere near Nar Shaddaa<em>

Han had not entered the exact coordinates he had received from the mysterious, encrypted message into his navicomputer, for even the best encryptions could be picked up by savvy spies and criminals. So he had made sure to jump as close as possible without being right on top of them and now they (Han, his obedient ship and an impatient and quizzical Chewbacca) were all traveling by sublight engines in the direction of the secret rendezvous point. Chewbacca had been anything but the picture of a supportive co-pilot and Han's evasive answers and tense attitude had the nervous Wookiee very near at a mutiny when the _Falcon's_ sensors finally picked something up.

Chewie growled and with an impressive alacrity and precision, and in perfect synchronicity with his hoots of 'what were you thinking?' and 'I told you so's', he began to bring the shields up and ready the guns.

"Easy, pal," Han said, eyeing the strange spot in the distance as it grew ever so slowly into something resembling a ship. The strange inkling that had been resting in the back of his mind, flared anew raising every hair along his neck. Until that moment he had not been sure, but now he was. "I think that's Leia," he whispered as he maneuvered the _Falcon_ around to approach the strange ship.

* * *

><p>It was difficult, but not impossible, to couple with a derelict X-wing fighter and that was exactly what Leia's ship was acting like, for it was Leia's ship. They could not raise her on any short wave frequency and she was not signaling them in any way. Han's forehead beaded with sweat. He had convinced himself that she had staged this entire encounter as some sort of lover's tryst. His emotions had volleyed back and forth between elation at seeing her and having her in his bunk and anger at placing them all in such jeopardy with childish, foolish games. But underneath those polar emotions of elation and anger ran something even deeper and more troubling than them both and that was worry.<p>

They were close enough to see the familiar StealthX fighter floating ominously in their viewport now. "Skirt above her and prepare for boarding," Han whispered, his voice hoarse from his repeated, unanswered hails.

Chewie chortled worriedly but obeyed.

Deep space was crazy. All kinds of traps and criminals lied and waited for unsuspecting spacers. Coupling with an unresponsive ship was dangerous and left all involved highly vulnerable. Nobody in their right mind would do it unless forced to and Han and Chewbacca were no exception. But this was _Leia_ so Han was already suited up for EV and climbing down the dorsal ring before either one of them had thought twice about it. He was worried, more worried than he had ever been before. But he clung to that fleeting notion that this was all by Leia's design. That she would pop the hatch of her X-wing and come rocketing into his arms with a happy giggle.

But she didn't.

All thoughts, whether of anger, worry or delight, abandoned Han like so much hot air on Hoth when he caught a glimpse of her through the transparisteel canopy of her X-wing fighter.

"Leia!" He exclaimed as he pushed himself down the last few rungs of the docking ring and crashed his knees on top of her starship with a thud. He pounded his fists against it helplessly. "Leia!"

There she sat, unresponsive and lifeless in the pilot's seat and separated from him by a thin layer of material that was manufactured to withstand the pressure of hyperspace travel. "Leia!" He screamed again in desperation as his fingers vainly traced the outline of the X-wing's canopy for an opening, knowing better than anything that he would find none.

The lights of her console flashed and there was a trilling set of beeps that Han ignored. If she did not wake up and release the hatch, she would die. Breaking into an X-wing was impossible. Releasing the hatch from the outside while the system was armed and locked for deep space was impossible. Towing her anywhere on sublights would mean arriving in a few months with a rotting corpse in the cockpit – also impossible.

"Leia," he cried out again, surprised by the panic in his own voice. He dug his fingers viciously into the unforgiving transparisteel of the cockpit hatch.

Then, as if in answer, there was another set of beeps and miraculously, as if by the sheer magnitude of his desire for it, the lid of the X-wing popped open beneath his fingers.

Even more popular among spacers than stories of ambushes and pirating, were the tales of miraculous rescues and unexplained phenomena out in deep space. For a quick moment, Han thought that he had witnessed such a miracle, that the goddess of the Outer Rim had smiled down upon him on this day and he silently thanked her.

It wasn't until he had the hatched fully opened and when he was unlatching Leia's restraints that he saw her Astromech droid spinning its dome and chirping wildly that Han realized he had been aided by more than some strange phenomenon of deep space. It all clicked then why Leia had not sent a message with the coordinates and why the strange message had come in a serious of bursts with no further explanations. "Thanks, Ar-three," Han whispered at the little droid as he lifted Leia's seemingly lifeless body into his arms.

She was fully suited and with the tenuous atmosphere of the makeshift coupling, Han had to fight the extreme urge to remove her helmet and check her vital signs. Leia's head lolled back and forth from the movement as Han slowly made his way back up the boarding ladder. He whispered to her words of encouragement that were more for him than for her. They stumbled up and into the entryway with Han slamming the entrance shut as they fell in.

As soon as the hatch had sealed them inside of the ship, Han worked feverishly at removing Leia's helmet. The initial shock of seeing her condition was thankfully outweighed by the urgency of the current situation. He didn't have time to think about the blood and bruises while he still wasn't sure if she was alive. He place two warm fingers against the cool, clammy skin of her neck. "C'mon, Leia," he murmured, feeling desperately for a pulse. As the ship's air was pumped into the small area, her body finally quivered, lurched forward and she coughed.

He thanked the goddess again and then banged his fist against the round opening that separated them from the inside of his ship. "Chewie!" Han yelled into the air. "Open up!"

"Han?" He heard the low, murmured whisper of his name and looked back down at her. She looked at him with eyes swollen half-shut. "I don't feel so good," she said groggily.

"I know," Han replied as the _Falcon's _hatch whirred open and Leia fell back into a deep faint.

* * *

><p>Concussion. Fractured Cheeckbone. Bruised ribs. Han followed the scanner as it catalogued every injury. He had even reset it twice when it reported that her nose wasn't broken because he had been certain that it was. It was then, as Han was tracing the darkened marks on her wrists, trying to puzzle out the type of battle she must've fought, that the scanner stopped for a long while on her abdomen and pelvic area. He found himself in some sort of hazy bewilderment, as if his brain was refusing to see the whole picture for some reason he could not quite grasp. Regardless, like the suspect readout on her nose, Han reset the scanner four or five times before he let it continue past her abdomen and down onto her legs.<p>

In the end, the medical unit was unable to identify just two of her wounds: both cauterized gashes, one on her upper arm and one on her thigh. Han knew that they were lightsaber wounds so he pressed a few buttons to allow the scan to complete and display recommended treatments. Due to the concussion, he would not be able to sedate her for several hours and whatever actions were immediately required would have to be done with minimal pain medication.

He applied two boneknitters to her face and some kolto gel to the shallow cut on her arm. The hectic pace of finding medication, reading instructions, tearing open stubborn wrappings, it all kept Han's mind busy and he found that tending to her wounds seemed to soothe him just as much as it did her. She whimpered softly every now and then and turned her head from side to side. As the pain medication began to work she wouldn't feel much more than pressure and faint movements, but Han knew from experience that she would still feel.

He moved his attention to the wound on her thigh and noticed gravely that the readout indicated that it would require stitching. As he readied the suture kit, he considered calling for Chewie. The Wookiee had been monitoring the wide range sensors, keeping an eye out for unwanted company, but now Han thought he might need the big Wookiee's help to hold Leia still as he tended to the deep cut. In the end, though, he decided against it, exactly why – he couldn't put into words.

Han washed his hands and cleansed the area of her hip that he would have to stitch. She began to writhe from the stinging pain of the antiseptic and Han yelped as half of the pungent liquid spilled onto the floor. "Hold still, sweetheart," he said. "Just hold still." He took a deep breath, grabbed hold of her leg with one hand and began to scrub the area clean with a coarse sponge in the other. Leia groaned, drew her legs up and turned onto the wound, almost falling off the bunk and onto the floor.

"Leia!" Han yelped, rethinking his decision to forgo calling Chewbacca, as he had to lean on top of her body to hold her down with his chest pressing up against hers.

Suddenly, for the first time since she had dimly awoken in the docking ring, her eyes flew open and the room filled with an energy that made the hair on Han's body stand on end. It was as if the _Falcon's_ entire electrical system had shorted out and its circuits were arcing all around them. Han recognized the look of panic in Leia's eyes, could see her mind racing with thoughts of terror and of escape. He felt in some unknown way that she was readying herself to fling him across the room and off of her as in invisible presence pressed and pushed against him from out of nowhere.

"It's me," he whispered quickly, searching for some hint of recognition in her eyes. "It's me, sweetheart. Calm down." He found it difficult to speak and a hard, painful lump crawled up his throat and sat there. "Leia," he breathed. "It's me," he said and repeated it, like the scans on her abdomen, over and over again. "It's me. It's me. It's me."

Slowly she let out a breath and he felt the tension leaving her as she seemed to relax, the crackling energy emanating off of her waning down to a less palpable buzz. Finally, she shut her eyes, and collectively they let go of a breath. "That's right," he whispered, levering his weight off of her slowly but keeping his head near her face. "You're safe now, you understand me?"

The moment crawled by while he sat and watched and waited for her to answer him but her only response was a single tear falling down the side of her face.

"You're safe now," Han repeated as he bent down to kiss the tear away, placing his trembling lips near her ear so that she would hear him as he whispered, "I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here and it's all over now. You understand me? Over."

* * *

><p>Leia's wounds were tended to and her leg was stitched. The medical equipment in the room hissed and beeped with an awkward melody whose only discernible tune was the rhythmic beating of Leia's heart. Han sat on the floor opposite from her, his back against the wall, his legs bent and his arms resting straight in front of him on the tops of his knees. In front of him the floor was littered with torn wrappers, bloodied bandages and an assortment of discarded medical supplies.<p>

It looked as if a team of drunken Jawas had rummaged through the medbay and disappeared. All that was left was the broken woman lying on the bed across from him. Han watched her sleeping form with unblinking eyes. He had stitched her up, cleaned the blood from her neck, arms and face and kissed her while his own pain twisted and wrenched inside of him. He had given her another shot for the pain, this one with a mild stimulant that would work to keep her awake if only for a little while. She was awake now, he could tell. But she was too exhausted or too traumatized to speak.

He wondered if in her mute silence her mind was racing like his. He could not imagine what had happened to her. Did not want to imagine the possibilities. Still he couldn't help himself. She had been punched; her lip split open and the skin around her mouth was dry and cracked. Both her eyes were darkened and swollen and her forehead was one big, bloody bruise. She had been held down. She had been afraid.

With a heavy heart he recalled how he had selfishly wanted to be separated from her for awhile and how he had immensely enjoyed the last few weeks of freedom. Pain and guilt flooded through him and he let his head fall down upon his arms while his tears finally broke free and flowed.

"Han?"

He jumped at the sound of her voice, standing and rushing over to her in one quick movement. Her eyes were still closed and he wondered if he had imagined her calling him. Picking up her hand he held it inside of his own, bringing his face down to kiss her on her swollen knuckles.

He felt Leia squeeze his hand and watched as her eyes fluttered open. "Han," she said again and her dry, cracked lips stretched in a semblance of a smile.

"Hey, there," he replied.

"I'm…sorry," she croaked.

"For what?"

"Worr-y-ing you," she spoke in fragmented syllables, her words slow and slurred. "Show-ing…like this."

He leaned closer, his face very near hers. "What happened? Where were you?"

She shook her head and then she drew in a deep breath. "Naboo."

"What?"

"Mother."

"What, Leia? What about your mother?"

She shook her head. "Don't know." Her eyes were droopy and in spite of the stimulant, she seemed half asleep.

"Leia?" He held her hand as firmly as he dared and with a concentrated effort, using his entire mind he willed her to look up at him with eyes alert and mind clear and tell him everything so that he could fix it. So that he could _know_. "_Please_," he pleaded.

She turned to him and seemed to put forward a tremendous amount of effort to gather her thoughts and speak. Her eyes focused on him and she did appear for the first time coherent. "I knew you a long time ago," she said with conviction. "That's…what I wanted to tell you." She seemed to relax again as if a large weight had been taken from her. She closed her eyes. "I knew you…a long time ago," she whispered again. "I knew you…."

"Alright, sweetheart," he said, disappointment flooding him. Watching the readout from the medscanner, he realized that it was now safe for her to sleep. He knew that she was not making any sense anyway, that she was talking nonsense out of her head. She would give him no answers now. So he bent down and rested his lips softly against her brow. "Go ahead and rest," he whispered. "Everything'll be fine."


	89. Chapter 89

It is Your Destiny…

The Millennium Falcon_, Somewhere in Hutt Space_

Leia welcomed the blankness that the sedation provided, snuggling herself into it like a warm embrace. Her thoughts drifted along the rippling waves of her emotions soaring up at the crest of her strange memories and plunging down into the undercurrents of nothingness. There was no concept of time or reality in this haze of medicated slumber. No now or then, no fears or regrets. She burrowed herself further into this cocoon of denial willing it to last, to carry her into a tomorrow that would be free from yesterdays and from pain.

But she could feel the edges of awareness closing in on her and bearing down upon her, weighty with the pressure to awaken. Against the backdrop of everything else, the soreness of battle thrummed through her muscles and resonated down in her very bones. There wasn't a part of her that felt spared from this reminder of her past. From the tips of her fingers to the thin, tender skin of her eyelids, everything hurt to varying degrees of constant pain. Even her brain throbbed with the events of the preceding days, memories pounding in and out of focus, flipping past her like scenes on a holorecorder; dreams and reality intertwining and converging until she couldn't be sure what had actually happened and what had been a figment conjured up by her tired mind.

Sounds and smells began to invade her mind, pervading her tender cocoon of denial: blood and kolto; cotton and metal. These were real. Something had happened. A steady beep dinged slowly and relentlessly in her right ear. It seemed to tease her and torment her. _Wake up_, it said. _No escape. Wake up_. She fought the pull of her eyelids, clinging to sleep as one might try fruitlessly to prolong a dream once consciously aware that they are dreaming. The blurry, blunted haze of the medication seemed to be evaporating all around her, the evening fog fighting futilely to fend off the bright, tender light of a new day.

When she awoke everything hit her at once, the pain, the reality, the cold pit of anger at a battle lost. Sitting up, or trying to sit up, she quickly discovered was a bad idea. Stars of pain danced on the backs of her eyeballs and she felt sick. Her stomach spun and she breathed meditatively through the urge to vomit. Laying her head against the pillow she took a sideways look at her surroundings. She was on the _Millennium Falcon_, the ship's owner sleeping in a chair right next to her. The sight of Han caused a warmness to blossom and burn inside of her chest and she smiled in spite of everything else going on in her mind. He was here.

"Han," she whispered, but no sound came out.

She shut her eyes and tried to sort through the events of the last few days. She couldn't remember how she had gotten here. A scene in the hangar bay of Coruscant came to mind, of Artoo bleeping excitedly and of her climbing into her old StealthX fighter. Then Naboo and the Medical Director, the children in the hospital ward and the memories. Sleeping in her mother's chair. The Sith. The blood. The pain. The nightmares. The…

She sat up, this time undeterred by the pain; this time propelled by something greater than just the urge to move for movement's sake alone. This time it was for escape, for if her mind could not evade the memories perhaps her physical body could. Placing her hands on either side of her head, she pressed with all her might, trying to squeeze the unwelcome onslaught of thoughts and emotions to a grounding halt. "No, no, no, no, no," she murmured as she slid off the bunk and stumbled across the small medical bay and across the corridor of the _Falcon, _slamming into the padded wall with an audible thud.

The tiny beep of the medical equipment blossomed into a furious whine, like a newborn baby stretching out and crying for its departing mother. The pain in her shoulder stung as it made contact with the wall, something in her arm ripped and burned as the wires and needles were wrenched free.

_Can't remember. Don't remember_, she chanted in her head. But everything, everything that she couldn't remember just a few moments ago now seemed to flood into her mind carelessly and relentlessly like air filling a balloon with no concern of its capacity or elasticity, stretching and filling every brain cell it could find until her head was lit up with pictures, words, sounds and smells. The pain, the fear and the nightmares all coming to life as they, too awoke from their sleepy haze. Landing on Naboo, talking to the Medical Director. Disbelief, pain, grief. Curling up into her mother's chair. Comfort, sadness, heartache.

_No, no, no, no, no_. She moved along the hallway, feeling her way more than seeing. Stumbling more than walking.

"Leia?"

Her brain hurt, blood pounding inside of her head as if her thoughts were fighting to find their way out. _Don't think!_

"Leia."

The Sith. Fighting the Sith. Invading the Sith's mind. _No_. Them attacking her, him holding her down. Fear, so much fear. Hate, rage, revenge. Pain. So much pain. Anger.

Hands grabbed her. Arms wrapped around her with a shocking jolt. "No!" She screamed and jumped, arching her back and turning around.

"Sweetheart?"

The word was tender but the tone was not. She was facing him, his arms at her shoulder, the grip tight and painful. She looked up at him, not entirely recognizing him. "Make it stop," she whispered, pleading. "Please," she added as her head fell down and she collapsed against him.

"It's okay, sweetheart."

She began to cry, the hiccoughing sobs of a child and the movement grated against her insides like shards of glass under her skin.

"It's all over?" The voice whispered.

She shook her head again, pushing herself out of his arms and moving further down the corridor. There was the Sith. She shut her eyes. He was on top of her, the large angry Sith. It was a dream. There was a jar and there were insects. _Luke_. He held her down and he… She was outside in a field. _Mother_. And then, and then she… _Father?_ There was blood, so much blood. _What was real? _She stopped, turned to look to the man again. She saw Han. "What happened to me?"

"I don't know," he said sadly, worry painting his face with a pale glow. "You were attacked. You said you went to Naboo about your Mother."

"Yes," she answered, almost relieved. "Yes, I went to Naboo." She stopped, straining to think, straining not to think.

She had flown here. She remembered that now. That was real because Han was here and he had found her. She stumbled forward, falling against Han again. There was a smell. A smell that was chasing her like a memory and she couldn't escape it, no matter where she went. It wasn't the kolto or the bandages; it wasn't her body or Han's. _There was a Sith_. She pushed herself away from Han and looked up at him. _He_ was still all over her. _He_ had been all over her. That was real. She had been inside of them, they had been inside of her. "I've gotta go," she said, her voice steady and she turned and pushed her way further into the bowels of the ship.

She walked as a drunken man might, crashing from wall to wall as she made her way down the curved corridor. "Alright, alright," Han was saying as he followed along, whispering softly and holding onto her gently. "Where do you wanna go?" He asked. "Just tell me where you wanna go."

She stopped, turned and looked up at him again, studying him through her liquid vision. "I need…" She began to cry again, hard, wracking sobs that hurt more than they relieved. "I need…"

"What, sweetheard? What do you need?" Han soothed. And then guiding her in the opposite direction, he added, "C'mon, let's go lie back down."

She was so confused, so aggravated, so unaware of what she needed yet so sure of what she did not want. "No," she said, wiggling out of his arms and stumbling further down the hallway tripping over her own feet and falling onto her hands and knees where she began to cry all over again.

"It's okay," Han said, crouching down beside her. His voice was sweet, tender.

"I can't think straight."

"I know," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her body onto his so she sat across his lap like a child.

His arms felt nice, the heat of his body felt nice and she calmed. "I don't," she began, trying desperately to gather her thoughts. Everything had been moving too fast and when she tried to slow it down everything moved so slow that she still could not make heads or tails of it. "I want," she tried again and then wandered off into her thoughts once again.

She had killed them. She had killed all the Sith. She knew that now. That was right and that was real. But she could still smell him, the damp stench of his breath on her face, the pressure of his heavy body on top of hers. The pain of his head slamming down against her own. The weight of him on her mind, the invisible something that had stretched out of her and inside of her. The mysterious something that had saved her. The-

Her stomach lurched at the memories and she pressed her fingers against her mouth.

"Whoa, okay, alright." Han moved to his feet quickly, hurrying her along towards his quarters. "Let's get you to the 'fresher."

_Yes_. Her mind breathed out in relief. "Yes," she repeated to him. _The 'fresher_. That's where she had wanted to go. To wash off the Sith and the smell. To wash away the blood and bruises. To wash away the memories and the pain. To wash it all away forever.

Han ushered her into the tiny room, delivering her at first to the small sink. He splashed water against her face and she began to grasp her bearings. She turned around and tumbled herself forward and into the tiny shower stall. She turned around again, pressed her back against the wall, slid down and sat on the cold floor with her knees bent up before her.

"Okay," Han said, taking in everything with a cool stride. "You want the water on?"

She nodded her head and dropped her cheek to rest down on the tops of her bended knees. She heard the sound of Han twisting the water valve open and then first cool and gradually warming water fell down upon her, slowly drenching her. She shut her eyes, her body shivering faintly. She could feel the water pouring over her body and swirling around her toes before disappearing through the small drain. She imagined it all washing off of her, the water, the blood, the pain, and the memories. She imagined everything going down the small drain. She imagined letting it all go.

She began to cry again, this time silent, cathartic sobs and her flowing tears were washed away with all of the rest. It felt so good. For the first time in a long time, something finally felt good.


	90. Chapter 90

It is Your Destiny…

_The _Millennium Falcon_, deep space_

He dried her off and dressed her. He had to reapply all the synthflesh that he had so carefully applied before. The packing of the wound on her arm had to be removed and redone. The stitching on her leg shouldn't have gotten wet and he would have to keep an eye on it now, watching for infection. And he didn't even know where to begin with her hair. He attended to it all silently, however, not uttering one gentle word of reprimand – not one glib comment or soft remark.

Leia, trancelike, allowed him to tend to her without any discernible reaction, no protest and without complaint. She seemed to have found her solace somewhere beneath the warm waters of the tiny shower stall and Han did his best not to intrude. When he was done, he carried her through the ship and into his quarters opting to liberate her from the med bay to convalesce within the confines of his own room. He laid her down gently onto his bed, covering her with the array of worn sheets and blankets that he had haphazardly acquired over these past several months.

She looked very small all huddled up beneath the covers and sinking into his over-sized mattress. Her face was serene with sleep, the bruises and cuts dulled by the soft, indirect lighting in his quarters. Her arms were covered with a long shirt that was his allowing only the tips of her fingers to peep out beneath the rolled up sleeves. Her lips were swollen and a little dry and cracked as they remained parted allowing her to breathe through her mouth. On the pillow spilled the wet, tangled mess that was her hair, balled into a concoction that looked suspiciously like a spacer's knot.

Han sat down next to her on his bunk, his gaze never tiring of cataloguing every inch of her. Every scrape, every deep purple bruise on her skin worried him, but it was the unseen injuries that bothered him the most. Bacta had already set to work healing all of her physical wounds, he pondered now on the rest. There was no cream or lotion, no stitch or stint that could repair any emotional trauma that she may have suffered. It was this unknown that gnawed away at him. It was his nature to tinker; it was his nature to fix. He wanted to fix all of her yet at the moment he was helpless having done all that he could.

He hated feeling helpless.

Reaching out, he ran the backs of his knuckles along the side of her face. "What happened to you?" He whispered but the soft sound of her breathing was his only answer.

He left her sleeping in his room while he cleaned up the medical bay. His supplies would have to be restocked and he made notes and replenished what items he could from his emergency stash. After checking in with Chewbacca and discussing their options, Han went back out to Leia's ship, placed a few system checks into motion utilizing her Ar-three unit and then detached the _Falcon_ from the empty X-wing. He and Chewie had decided that uncoupling the two ships would be the safest option should any unwanted company stumble upon them.

Han then spent the next several hours between tending to Leia and tending to his ship. Unlike Leia, all of his ship's needs and ailments lay open for him to investigate, fix and explore. His love for the old freighter had grown in much the same way as it had for the female Jedi sleeping in his bunk. He had been intrigued and enamored with her from the very start but the more time they spent together, the more adventures they shared, the more important they had both become. Somehow the _Millennium Falcon_ had become of a part of him that was hard to exactly explain. He could say the same about Leia. He felt more connected, more synchronized and attached to both of them than he had ever felt for any ex-girlfriend or military ship. It was as if they were somehow intertwined and inseparable, somehow laced into the very fabric of his being. It was as if no matter what choices he had made throughout his life up until this point, he would have found himself on this ship with this woman and that it was all somehow meant to be.

Was this what true love was? This feeling of not knowing where something ended and where it had begun? The feeling of knowing someone or something forever as if they had always been there even when in clear memories they were not. He did not know. But Han did not find these thoughts comforting, true love or not. Quite the contrary, it was not a romantic notion for him to feel as if his choices bore no weight upon the direction of his life. He did not believe in any higher power guiding and influencing his every decision no matter what name that power answered to. He was a man of his own and that fact was a source of great pride for him. It was difficult to reconcile the happiness he found both with Leia and with his ship against the uneasiness these feelings stirred within him. These fears were similar to his previous mistrust of the Jedi and their all-powerful Force. Yet he had come to terms with the Jedi and how ridiculous was it to mistrust a ship? He shrugged off these concerns as silly and most probably brought on by his lack of sleep and worry for Leia.

It was nearly morning according to the ship's chrono when Han stumbled back into the Captain's Quarters. He checked on Leia once last time before plopping himself into the spare bunk. It was riddled with dirty clothes, datacards and astrogation charts and it didn't even have sheets on it but none of that mattered very much as he worked himself into a comfortable position, his head resting on an old jacket and his knees knocking up against a broken datapad and a few spent blaster charges. As his eyes closed, he tried to think of how long he wanted to sleep for, usually able to perfectly control his internal clock, but sleep took him quickly and he was not able to complete his thought.

* * *

><p><em>The <em>Millennium Falcon_, several hours later_

The sounds of movement incorporated themselves into his dream the way that they sometimes do. Han Solo clung to sleep for just a few more moments before realizing where he was and who might be moving around in his room. His eyes flew open and his head jerked up, pains in his neck and back from sleeping so deeply and awkwardly came into focus along with his mind. The lights were lowered in the room and all he could make out was a dark figure moving about.

"Anhhh," he groaned as he sat up and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Good Morning," the dark figure spoke to him in Leia's voice.

"What time is it?"

"I have no idea," Leia replied. "The chrono's broken."

"Not broken," he said as he stood, stretching his back and legs. "Just really slow." He blinked his eyes a few times and squinted at the small readout against the wall. "Holy shavit, I slept for six hours."

"It sounded like you needed it."

He finally focused on Leia, almost forgetting what kind of shape he had left her in. It took a moment for his mind to digest what his eyes were seeing. She was sitting on his bed now, her hair done up properly absent any hint of a spacer's knot and she was fully dressed and lacing up her boots.

"What're you doing?"

"Getting dressed."

"I don't know if you've heard, but dining's pretty informal here."

She looked up at him, placed her hands on her knees and sighed. "I spoke with Chewie. He's hooking up my X-wing."

Instinctively Han's head turned toward the closed door as if he could see his partner down the corridor and through the docking ring performing this traitorous task. A few faint noises coming from below confirmed what Leia had said. He bit the inside of his lip as he shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't blame the Wookiee, though; the big, furry oaf had a soft spot the size of Tatooine for Leia Skywalker.

He turned back to look at her. She had stood up and she was packing a small bag. He could tell that she was still heavily favoring her hurt leg. "You're barely healed."

"I feel fine."

Feeling powerless and used, anger swelled inside of him. "So lemme get this straight," he started, the tone of his words causing Leia to turn around and look at him. "You come here half dead, let me patch you up and worry about you and then leave without any explanation whatsoever?"

"I thought we would talk before I left."

"I don't want you to leave."

"That's not an option."

"Not an option?" He laughed. "Gee, it's really nice to see you back to normal. I almost regret stitching you back up."

She sighed, turned back toward her bag and continued packing. "Have you forgotten that you need to get to Endor?" She said over her shoulder. "I've held you up long enough."

"Held me up? That's a really good way, yeah, a really nice way of putting it."

"I spoke to Chewie," she replied as if they were having an entirely different conversation, as if his hands weren't curled into fists and his jaw clenched. "You're not that far off-schedule. If we all leave now you just might be able to make up the time."

"To hells with Endor and to hells with the time."

She turned back toward him. "C'mon, Han. You can't just throw away months of undercover work for nothing. You need to think about more than just me."

"I am thinking about more than just you," he lied and then added, "There's no reason that you can't come to Endor with us."

"And leave my X-wing here? To do what, exactly?"

Her apparent irritation was maddening to him. It was not to _do_ anything, it was to keep her safe, keep her with him where he would know where she was and could protect her. But as the thoughts came into his mind, he knew that they were the last thing she would want to hear. He knew that they were not good and valid reasons, but they were _his_ reasons and they were good and valid to him. He crossed his arms.

She sighed, she was holding a shirt in her hands that belonged to him, a shirt she wore to sleep in and for a moment his mind went back to his last memory of her in it and his anger ebbed. "I don't want to fight," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Then don't go."

She stared at him for a moment, seeming to see every part of him bared out to her unhidden. "You can't lock me in your quarters for the rest of my life," she said. "Now, or three months from now, you'll have to let me go eventually. And besides," she continued. "If you had really intended on taking me with you we would be halfway to Endor by now, wouldn't we? You were sitting out in Deep Space already detached when I woke up. There was nothing stopping you then. You see? You knew, even if you don't want to admit it, you knew you would have to let me go."

He felt his fingers uncurling. Why _hadn't_ he just left for Endor? His thoughts took him to that blank space, that brick wall that said that there was no other answer other than she was right. _Why_ did she always have to be right? He kept his arms crossed, his expression tight. "You said we were going to talk. So talk."

"Well," she replied, suddenly looking paler. "This isn't exactly how I envisioned this would go."

He watched her, not surprised by her stalling but definitely unnerved by it. What was she hiding? And then there was something else, a sudden realization dawning on him. "I'm curious," he said. "How exactly _did_ you envision it going while you snuck off while I was sleeping to get Chewie to hook up your ship?"

She stared at him, color painting her battered cheeks but she did not deny anything. "Agh," she finally groaned, turning around and throwing his shirt into her bag while shaking her head. "I don't know. I don't have time for this."

He watched her, her back to him now and her small, slim figure shrinking in front of him. He remembered his fears, with a flush of cool anxiety, he remembered the medscan and the look she had on her face when he held her down. "Alright," he whispered as he stepped toward her. "Whatever it is, it's alright." He placed his hands on her shoulders and felt her body flinch.

He heard the sound of her small bag zipping closed and then she turned around to face him. "Okay," she said dejectedly.

He couldn't stand seeing her so miserable even if she had practically planned to leave without saying goodbye. "Hey," he said, drawing her into his arms. "Forget about it. Whatever it is, forget about it. I don't need to know."

As soon as he said the words he regretted them. Of course he needed to know! _But not like this_, he thought. Not _forcing_ her to. He didn't have the heart to force her to.

"No," she whispered against his chest. "I want to tell you. I just…"

"Shhhh," he whispered back, kissing the top of her head. "I understand."

"You do," she replied, looking up to him. "You always do understand."

He saw the faint hint of a smile cross her lips. He bent forward and kissed her forehead and then rested his cheek on top of her head. With their height difference this pose was nothing new to them, she tucked nicely just inside of his embrace and the familiarity of it felt nice.

"I found out what happened to my mother," she said.

He tried to deflect the shock he felt over her words. He knew how much she yearned to discover exactly what had happened to her mother. Yet, this was not where he thought this conversation would go. Would what happened to her mother explain what happened to her? He pulled back, looking down at her. "And?" He pressed again.

"And...," she replied. "Maybe we should sit down."


	91. Chapter 91

It is Your Destiny…

_The _Millennium Falcon_, deep space_

They sat facing each other in his bunk. Leia had stopped talking. She had told him about what she had found at the medical center. He knew about the vicious attack at her home that evening. She had told him about the three Sith, about how they had ambushed her. He asked probing questions about her injuries, questions that made her relive them in a way that she was not quite ready to do.

The healing skin beneath her bandages itched and tingled as if phantom strikes were lashing out at her with every word. She was vague, forgetful and Han called her on a few occasions when her story just did not seem to make sense. Her mind fought against her. It was as if her very being didn't want her to remember too much, as if she was protecting herself from herself. But she couldn't explain it. She felt like running. But there was nowhere for her to run. She had run here. Now she wondered why.

She pressed her fingers against her eyelids, trying to stall the onslaught. Visions from her dreams, or memories, she couldn't be sure – haunted her. Someone was inside the Jedi Order. There had been a presence. Someone or something was destroying it from within. Her father was somehow involved. And Luke. She had stood in a meadow. Something had been unleashed-

"Leia?"

When she opened her eyes, Han was watching her. For a moment she couldn't recall where she was or what she was doing. She only saw her hands on the lid of a jar.

"Are you okay? You left me for a little bit right there."

"Yes," she answered automatically, still trying to make sense of everything she was seeing – and not seeing. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Maybe we've…," Han said, and then hesitated before he continued, "talked about it enough."

She nodded. There was more to tell him. But until she could separate dreams from reality just what she should tell him she couldn't be sure.

"Any ideas on why these Sith were after you? Or why they killed your mother? How they knew where you were?"

She furrowed her eyebrows together and shook her head. Han was so practical, so tactical. Perhaps that's what she needed. He would never put much stock into dreams and visions. "I don't know," she finally replied.

"Alright. So where do we go from here?"

She shook her head again. "I don't know."

"But you know you want to leave."

She shrugged and nodded. "You should be on your way to Endor."

"You could come with me."

She made a sound; it was a mixture of _'I wish'_ and _'Yeah, right'_. "I can't leave my X-wing here, and-"

"I know," he interrupted. "Forget I said it."

"What happens after Endor?"

"Depends on what I find."

"I'll give it a week and send a message."

"I'll wait."

He seemed angry. Somewhere in his eyes she could see the hurt. It wasn't easy lying to him. The longer they stayed together the more she seemed to keep from him. One lie just built upon another. How could she tell him about her father and what she knew without telling him about their history, as well? How could she tell him? When could she tell him everything? "Han, I…," she trailed off. Of all the times that she had rehearsed these words, now they seemed too large, too heavy to push up and out of her throat. _I knew you a long time ago._ It sounded too simple. It sounded insane.

"Leia," he said gravely, placing his hand on her knee. He seemed to comprehend the weightiness of the words that would not come.

She stared into his eyes, those bottomless pits of love and understanding. She could do this. He would understand. Somehow he seemed to already know. She opened her mouth, but no sound would come.

Han squeezed his hand on her knee and leaned toward her. He opened his mouth and for a moment she half-expected him to say it for her: _We were meant to be together_. But that wasn't what he said. He said something else entirely. Something foreign and shocking and so far from what she was thinking that she was momentarily dazed by it. Han didn't wait long in the silence. "Leia?" He said firmly, urging her to answer him.

"Wait a minute," she whispered, trying to wrap her head around what she had heard. "What?"

"Were you raped?" He asked again, she heard him clearly this time. He picked up one of her hands and squeezed it between his own. "Leia, you can tell me. It's alright."

"Raped?" She repeated, trancelike. Everything flew through her mind, that battle with the Sith, that creature lying on top of her, her message to herself, everything she had just now wanted to say. Everything she thought Han already knew. Everything that she wouldn't have the burden to tell. But no, he didn't know. He couldn't know.

"Leia?"

His voice was desperate, she had never heard him like this before; it shook her out of her thoughts. "No," she finally croaked, her voice almost barely audible. Disappointment washed over her, the heavy burden of her lie settling back into the pit of her stomach to live there yet another day. "No, I wasn't."

He was so relieved that he pulled her into his arms. She let him. She was stunned; she had been so close to telling him everything thinking that they were so parallel in their thoughts, so in sync. But he had been in an entirely different realm. She felt so alone, almost betrayed by this revelation. Perhaps no one would ever understand her, not even the man that she was destined to marry.

"The med scan was whacky," he started to explain. "And…when I held you down…"

She pressed her face against his chest and let him hold her tightly. He had been terrified for her. She had come here wanting his protection yet he seemed now more fragile than she. Her thoughts began to reorganize, leaving behind everything that she had wanted to say and coalescing on this one point. Her father, her brother and even Han, none of them understood. And none of them could protect her. None of them. It all rested on her and there would never be rest for her.

In her mind, a door shut.

"He held me down," she finally replied in explanation. "But I got away from him. I…got away from him."

She felt him kiss the top of her head. "Leia."

In that one word everything was said. She could hear the hours of torture he had succumbed to while waiting for her to awaken. She could hear the relief and the promise that whatever her answer would've been, he had prepared himself for it. She sunk against him, melting into his chest, cocooning her entire mind, body and soul into his arms. She couldn't help but feel that she had lied to him again. No, she had not been raped, not in the traditional sense, but she had been invaded. And she had invaded someone as well.

She still felt invaded.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away from him so that he could look her in the face. "You're sure you're alright?"

"Yes," she answered too quickly and Han immediately picked up on it.

"There's something you're not telling me."

"No. Nothing," she lied. "I'm just tired. And, I'm sorry I worried you. I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have-"

"No," he interrupted. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just glad nothing like that happened to you."

"I know."

They stared at each other for a moment. Han's jaw was still set, something like determination was written all over his face. He placed his hand on her cheek and rubbed his thumb along her jaw. "Let's just go," he whispered. "Forget your X-wing. Forget Endor, the Jedi Order, _everything_ and just go."

She smiled and shut her eyes for a moment letting herself believe that they could, that she could. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him for a long moment. "You don' t mean that."

His expression did not change as he replied most seriously, "Try me."

She laughed. How did he always manage to make her laugh? "Okay, maybe you do," she replied and somewhere in the back of her mind she was thankful that he did, somewhere in the back of her mind she thought one day she might be ready to take him up on it.

He smiled back at her, his jaw loosening and the hardness fading from his eyes. She studied his face, the stubble along his jaw, the crooked line of his nose and the tousled mess of hair that fell on his forehead. She wondered how she had found him, _she_ the woman that had come before her. Had there been a chase? Had it been hard for them? She almost wished that for her it had been different. That for her this man hadn't just fallen into her lap out of the sky. It seemed silly, but something told her that it was important.

Then her thoughts moved forward and she was halfway across the galaxy. Already plotting her next move. Already figuring out where she should go. Already tracking her prey. Yet he was still here, she was still halfway in his arms and they had never really been good at goodbye. She wasn't sure of anything any longer, but it didn't seem to matter here. Here, everything else could wait. She would always have this.

She slid one hand behind his neck and leaned toward him drawing his face down to hers. "Kiss me, Han," she said, smiling. "I could use a good kiss."

And before she knew what was happening they were kissing. She hadn't felt him lean toward her, she hadn't felt herself move toward him, yet they were together, as always – just how they were meant to be. His lips felt so nice against her own. He leaned into her, slowly pushing her down onto the bed. She removed his belt, he undid her hair. He trailed his finger down her neck, she wrapped her hand around the tight muscles of his bicep feeling them twist and play beneath her touch has his hand traveled further along her body.

He came to the binding on her hip and stopped, drawing his gaze back up to meet hers.

"What is it?" She asked.

"I don't wanna hurt you."

She pushed on his arm and easily toppled him over, rolling and switching their positions, he on the bottom and she on top. She began to undo the fasteners of his shirt. "We'll go slow," she promised.

He shrugged his shoulders helping her help him out of his shirt. Her mouth landed immediately on the bared skin of his chest, pressing wet kisses along his collarbone and then down and over his nipples. "I like slow," he replied.

He was still as her fingers moved down to his trousers unfastening the opening and pushing them down low onto his hips. Her small hand ghosted back up and over his body, she set a tortuously languorous pace bumping lightly over each rib, and then back down along a scar on his abdomen and lower. She slid her fingers beneath the elastic band of his undergarment.

"I like slow a lot," he breathed.

He felt her smile as her lips stretched out against the skin of his chest. "Liar," she replied as she stretched back up to kiss him on his lips.

* * *

><p>Later, when he sat in his pilot's chair and watched the blip of her X-wing wink out of existence, he could feel his connection to her stretching across the expanse of space, a phantom pulling inside of his chest. A short jump in space, her first and much like the one he was about to perform, he could almost see her in the distance sitting there, punching the next coordinates and performing her system checks maybe turning her head to look for him out in the nothing that she had left behind her.<p>

"Leia," he whispered aloud in the cockpit and his insides lurched forward one last, painful time as he felt her jump away to points unknown.


End file.
